Of Owls and Wolverines
by nickyfullmetal
Summary: Medea craved vengeance, Logan longed for his freedom. When Medea's act of betrayal helps Logan out of his cage, both of them get what they want. And what they need, they find in each other.
1. Chapter 1

**A\N: This is me abusing the X-Men universe. I have crazy hots for Hugh Jackman as Wolverine and I need to let it out.**

 **Chapter 1:** **The Great Escape**

Medea woke up with a start. Cold sweat covered her skin, her breath hitched and her heart was beating with abandon. She appeared as if she was awoken from a horrid nightmare, except for the tiny, dangerous curve of her lips. In her dream, she was in Iraq again with her old crew. Her family. Almost dying in a dream was far less terrifying than almost dying in real life, on a mission, but she was not so scared to face death in either. To be honest, she actually missed it. Missed the thrill, missed her friends. Especially Goose. She really missed him. Shrugging off her memories, Medea went about her daily routine, checking the control room for any technical issues that could have raised during the night shift. Then she proceeded to her office, and spent a few hours reviewing and refactoring some of the code for the cameras surveillance software.

Medea attended lunch, sitting with two of her colleagues, and tried to shove food down her throat even though her body was threatening to reject it. She needed to keep casual appearance for less than 12 hours. And then, over 20 years of work would come to fruition. Whoever said revenge was a dish better served cold was definitely right, and tonight she was about to taste the nectar of the gods. Tonight, was fucking pay day. Medea thought of her mother, dead, and her brother, in a cryogenic cell. She remembered them young and happy. They were still young. Forever young.

Everything she needed was secure in a server thousands of miles away, and she could reach it through her phone. The facility was infected with malware for months without anyone noticing, partially because she was a member of the cyber-security team, and tonight it was about to unlock the cells of each and every mutant that was held forcefully. Medea took a deep inhale. Her father tended to over-drink lately, and she was hoping tonight would be one of those nights were he would drown himself in liquor. Having him out of the picture would significantly increase the chances of success.

Medea looked at her father with slightly hollow eyes, an expression she adopted to strengthen his belief that she was utterly unremarkable and plain. She nodded at the right timing, signaling that she was indeed listening, but did not contribute any valuable opinion or intelligent commentary. Medea inwardly cringed at the thought that her greatest talent was pretending to be tragically bleak.

Medea let her expression naturally morph to apologetic, while searching her pockets frantically. "I think I forgot my phone in lab 13. I'll be right back."

Her father gave her a prolonged stare that said everything. Medea would like to think she could spot there disdain and disappointment, but her father was far too apathetic and detached when it came to her, to feel such strong emotions. Medea quickly made her way to the lab, where she intentionally left her phone, not risking being caught lying. It was lunch break, so the lab should be empty, but she had a plan for distracting whoever was in there. Fortunately, it was empty when she arrived.

Medea picked her phone from one of the metal desks, and grinned at the camera that was nearest. How unfortunate it was that most cameras in the lab were currently dysfunctional. It would take them an awful lot of time to realize it was her doing, and by then, she would be someone else, somewhere else, far far away. Medea averted her eyes to the Adamantium cage, holding their most deadly and uncontrollable mutant. He arrived just a few weeks ago and he fit into her plan perfectly.

The other mutants had spent way too long in the facility. Medea suspected they were too accustomed to being imprisoned and that their reaction will be slow, or they might even stay in their cages out of fear and hopelessness. But that mutant in the cage, he was a fighter, a survivor. Her father had been trying to break him into submission since the operation, but to no avail. Medea might had something to do with it. The was nothing like reminding a man what he once was, to inspire him to fight for what he might become.

* * *

His name was Logan. He kept holding onto that thought. Despite whatever lies Stryker tried to sell him. He could not remember anything past the last few weeks, maybe snippets of memories here and there. But not enough to contradict anything Stryker said. And yet, his name was Logan. He was not created in that lab, he was not called the Wolverine, he was not an animal. His name was Logan.

A week after he woke up in that cage, he found a dog-tag in one of the corners. He kept it hidden under a piece of concrete he clawed out from the cell's floor. Later on, there was a photo of two young men. He stared at it for hours, trying to figure out what it was. He recognized the taller man in the picture. It was the same beefy guy who hang around Stryker, and occasionally teased him. That man, Victor, took exceptional pleasure in tormenting him, as if he was personally and emotionally invested in it. And then one time when they took him out of his cage, in chains, to wash him with a hose, like a dog, he managed to steal a quick look at his reflection in the glass. And he realized with horror, that the second man in the photo was him.

He did not have much time to ponder on it. They were experimenting on him every day. Or at least, every day he was conscious. His claws could pierce through nearly anything, except for the metal they were made of. And Stryker very efficiently insured that Logan's powers were useless. Chains, cuffs, ropes, cages, all from Adamantium. His meals and his showers were handled by machines, executed by moving metal parts that he could not subdue. When he was awake he was either in his cage, or in a fighting ring, or strapped to an operating table. He did his best to memorize how he got to any of these places, but he was only partially successful in doing so.

The only people that interacted with him were Stryker and Victor. The staff was ordered not to speak to him. The others mutants in the lab were held in tanks, unconscious. There was young girl in uniform that came from time to time to fix things, and she would steal a glance at him when no one was looking, but she never said a word. He saw her with Stryker more than once, and rumor among the staff said they were related. When she came alone, she would stare at one of the cryogenic cells, her fists clenched and body rigid, before proceeding with her work. She would usually peek at him just before leaving, and what he saw in her eyes puzzled him. A spark of defiance and hope and determination that he could not find in himself anymore.

There was pain. Daily. Fights, on weekly basis. Constant abuse, degradation. Calling him a filthy animal, a test subject, a failed experiment. And Logan would have believed it eventually, if it was not for the tiny hints that were dropped from time to time, reminding him that he was more. A week ago, it was hard to estimate the time, there was that note. The hand writing was clear, beautifully curved. Girly.

"Your name is Logan. You were born a free man. And soon, you will be a free man once again."

He destroyed the note immediately. For whatever reason, these few words awoken something dormant deep inside of him. He had dreams every night afterwards, slivers of his possible past. He woke up a few days ago and knew Victor was his brother. Logan was smart enough to know he should keep that knowledge to himself. But it became harder and harder when more visions of his brother pieced together. There was also a woman, he could not recall much about her, but those thoughts, unlike all the others, were tender.

The young technician returned to the lab. He saw her earlier that day. She picked up her phone from one of the desks, and then she started walking in his direction. Up close, he could see her eyes were green, bright with something that was borderline crazy. She always seemed meek, almost spineless, especially around Stryker where she appeared even smaller than she already was. But when she positioned herself right in front of him, curling her fingers around the Adamantium bars, Logan wondered if he misjudged her.

Baring his teeth, his expression feral by default, he snarled at her. "What do you want, kid?"

She did not seem impressed by his intimidating behavior, she actually had the guts to roll her eyes at him. Logan growled at the impudent girl. If she was not in uniform, he would assume she was a teenager, with her short military haircut and the amorphous figure under the baggy uniform.

"Your cage will be opened at midnight. Three minutes later, the others, in the east wing, will be released." She said very quietly, knowing full well he can still hear her. "You'll have about 5 minutes while the guard changes. Someone should be waiting for you outside."

His eyes narrowed as she spoke, doubting her integrity. When she averted her gaze momentarily to that cryogenic cell again, Logan could not tell if she picked up his suspicion from his features, or if it was an action performed out of habit. It was hosting a boy who seemed no older than kindergarten, with pale skin and dark hair. Her blank expression flattered for a second, and Logan could tell that whoever that boy was, he was awfully significant to her. She turned around and left without another word.

Logan stared into the space where the girl had been a few moments ago. He had seen her around quite often, and by now, he knew who she was - Stryker's daughter. He would have never guessed, with Stryker's indifferent and impersonal treatment of her and the lack of resemblance in their features, but the staff talked. After their little chat, and assuming she did not deceive him, he could definitely see the similarity. She was cunning, cold-blooded and clever. And cute too, but it was besides the point and had nothing to do with her father.

Logan unsheathed his claws and leisurely sharpened them against each other. He was locked here for quite some time, and despite his impatient temper, he decided he could wait a few more hours. When the digital clock on the wall opposite to him showed four glowing zeros, he heard a soft click. As he pushed the bars, they slid with no resistance, and he was out. The only scientist in the lab was not quick enough to scream before Logan slit his throat, and as promised, the heavy metal doors at the lab's entrance were unlocked as well.

He had two more minutes to reach the east wing, and considering he was facing no resistance since the guards were in briefing, he would make it just on time. He was conscious enough when they dragged him around from one lab to the other, to memorize a good portion of the facility. Logan heard the simultaneous clicks of dozen locks when he stepped into the east wing. A blond woman tentatively pushed the bars, and her cage was opened. The rest followed quickly, their heads turning to stare at him.

"Let's get moving." He growled, and began leading them outside, guided by fractured memories.

And then, naturally, Victor showed up. "Are you leaving without saying goodbye, little brother?"

Logan groaned. "Take the others and get out." He told the blond woman behind him, while his claws came protruding between his knuckles. In the background, he could hear soldiers yelling and a steady thumping rhythm of running.

Victor launched himself at him, in a movement Logan's muscles remembered too well, and was able to evade easily. He could hear the soldiers getting closer, just as a siren began, and the door behind him, leading further into the facility, locked down. Narrowing his eyes at his older brother, Logan was going for the kill this time. Victor made another attempt at him, which Logan blocked and slashed Victor across his chest, drawing blood. Victor crouched on the ground, preparing for his next attack.

"That's a nice upgrade, Jimmy." Victor said, pointing at his Adamantium claws.

Logan lunged forward, taking Victor to the ground and rolling around in fight for dominance. Victor was just as skilled in hand to hand as Logan was, and he threw Logan off, managing a proper kick to his stomach. Enraged, Logan attacked again. This time, Victor did not foresee the maneuver, and Logan had thrown him against the wall, and with a quick motion his left hand claws were embedded in Victor's chest. His other hand was at Victor's throat, claws scrapping his skin.

"Do it." Victor whispered, teasing.

Logan hesitated. And then a shot was heard. Logan winced as it hit his shoulder, and punched Victor with his unhurt arm, sending him into unconsciousness. Turning around, he saw Stryker, standing between him and the large metal doors that led to his freedom. Stryker pulled the trigger again and the next shot got him in the chest, bringing him to his knees. Logan moaned in pain, these bullets were different. Stryker took long, confident strides towards him, pointing the gun at Logan's head.

"Say goodbye to your memory, Logan, again." Stryker said gleefully.

Logan heard the shot, but did not feel the hit. Instead, Stryker, eyes wide with surprise, was staring at someone slightly to his left. Blood stained his uniform, as he brought a disbelieving hand to his chest.

"It was all you..." Stryker whispered, before collapsing to the ground, motionless.

Stryker's daughter seemed eerily calm with her gun still pointed at her father's corpse. The loud noises of soldiers banging on the door behind him reminded Logan he still had to get out of there. The girl remained frozen and Logan realized her restrained expression was actually shock. Jumping to his legs, he grabbed her by the waist and ran out of the facility.

A few hundred meters from the facility's exit, an aerial vehicle awaited, while the mutants boarded. Without looking back, Logan jumped in, just as it was taking off.

"What the hell are you doing?" A young boy exclaimed. "She is the daughter of that monster Stryker!"

Logan gave him a scathing glare. "She can be the daughter of Lucifer for all I care. She is the one who unlocked all the cages."

A few gasps were heard and a wave of whispering began, with everyone watching the young girl still in his arms. He placed her on the bench besides him, watching her carefully. She looked pale as a ghost, and she shaking.

"Are you alright, kid?" Logan asked, although it was quite clear she was not.

"I don't know. I just killed my father. Should I be?" She replied with a hoarse voice. She closed her eyes for a long moment, leaning her elbows on her knees, trying to control her breathing.

"So, you were our inside contact." Said a young man, shuffling his cards. "The infamous Medea Stryker."

"Medea Andersen. I don't go by Stryker anymore." The girl replied quietly. Her breath hitched suddenly, and she grasped her head in her hands. Logan could hear the softest whimper come out of her.

He placed his hand on her shoulder, awkwardly. "I'm fine. I just get these headaches..." She said in a small voice.

Logan noticed everyone was still staring at them. "Show's over, let the girl rest." He growled, glaring at the lot of them. He noticed how she gripped her head tighter, making the veins visible in her hands. He could smell the cold sweat on her skin, and feel the light tremor of her shoulders. Logan knew pain too well, and it was easy for him to spot it in others. And this girl was agonizing.

"Hi, poker boy. Do you have any pain relievers?" Logan asked the hatted guy that addressed Medea before.

"Nope. But we would arrive in about an hour. Jean will take care of her then." The card master replied.

Logan noticed how her breathing became more shallow, but was frustratingly unable to help her. A young girl, not much older than 10, stepped forward. "I...I can put her to sleep, if you'd like." She offered shyly.

"Do it."

The tinny brunette raised her hand, letting it hover right above Medea's head. In a split second Medea's body became limp, and had his reflexes not forced him to act, she would have collapsed to the floor. Logan caught her just in time, pulling her upper body to rest on his lap, with her legs stretched on the bench. Unconsciously, his fingers soothingly ran through her short hair.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Her Father's Daughter**

Medea woke up with her head still throbbing and stiff neck just as the vehicle landed. She drowsily opened her eyes, to realize she was resting on the lap of the man her father had imprisoned and tortured. It sent a shiver down her spin.

"Hi, kid, can you walk?" His voice came above her in a soft rumble.

Unsure, Medea pushed herself off him, realizing that the lights still hurt her and everything was slightly spinning. But it was not too bad. "I think I can."

He got up and offered her hand, which she took, and their eyes locked. "I'm not a kid, you know."

He snorted and gave her a crooked grin. Medea fished her dog-tag out of her uniform's collar, showing him the date imprinted on it. His eyebrows furrowed and he gave her a long, contemplating stare. "Apparently not." He agreed. "But you look like one, so the name stays."

Medea leaned on him slightly as they boarded off the aircraft, walking through shiny metallic corridors that made her head ache even more, and her eyes water. The trickster, which everyone addressed as Gambit, gently took her arm and led her to a redhead woman with a lab coat. "She needs medical attention." He said.

The woman smiled pleasantly. "Get her to the infirmary. I'll run a few tests, so I can give her the proper treatment."

Medea raised her hand. "No tests. No infirmary. I just need … a dark room. Quiet."

"No one is going to hurt you here, sweetie- " The ginger tried to calm her.

Medea shook her head wildly, causing the pain to double, and let out a shriek. She felt a heavy hand rest on her shoulder. "She was clear about what she wanted, bub." Logan's rough voice cut in. In a smooth motion she found herself curdled in his arms.

There was a momentarily pause before the woman spoke again. "I'll show you to a room where she can rest."

Medea woke up in completely darkness, in the softest bed she had slept in for years. Her hands casting about blindly, she searched for a light switch. She found it just as her eyes became accustomed to the dark. Medea turned on the bedside lamp, noticing a glass of water just beside it. Realizing she was perched, she downed it in one sip.

She looked around her at her modest-sized, although lavishly furnished room. She slowly got on her feet, testing her balance, and marched towards the cream colored door she hoped was a bathroom. She was pleasantly surprised to find fresh clothes on the counter, and two soft pink towels. Without a second thought, Medea turned on the shower, and scrubbed herself raw until her skin was an angry red color. Her scratching fingers dug into the skin in several places, leaving wet, crimson lines. Washing the blood off, Medea dried herself and dressed. There was a soft knock on the door just as Medea stepped out of the bathroom.

"Come in."

The redheaded doctor from before closed the door behind her. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better, thank you." Medea replied.

"I'm Dr. Jean Grey. I run the infirmary in this school." The woman extended her hand.

Medea shook her hand. "I guess you know who I am."

Jean gave her a sad smile. "The professor is waiting for you, if you're feeling well enough."

"The professor?" Medea was puzzled. "I feel alright I guess..."

"Follow me then." Jean said with a flip of her glorious hair, leading Medea through warm wooden corridors.

They entered a large office, with a huge window looking on a lash lawn. She noticed Logan at her left, an irritated expression on his face. He was glaring at the tall man wearing some kind of sunglasses. At the other corner was a dark skinned woman with white hair, and behind the desk was a bald man in a wheelchair. She assumed he was the professor.

"Medea. It's a pleasure to meet you." The bald man welcomed her. "Please take a seat." He pointed at a char near Logan.

"Feeling better, kid?" Logan teased her.

"Just peachy, old man." Medea smirked back.

Jean's hand rested on her shoulder, bringing her attention back to the professor. "My name is Charles Xavier. And you are at the school for gifted youngsters."

Just behind the professor she could spot children in the garden levitating and flying kites. Without touching them, and without any wind blowing. "Gifted." Medea whispered in wonder. "Oh my father would have a field day if he knew..."

"Well, you apparently took care of that..." The man with the sunglasses remarked dryly.

Medea abruptly felt ill. The vomit traveling up burned her gullet, and luckily the trash bin was nearby when it all came out in a few large spatters. There was a loud thump as Logan jumped from his chair, claws at ready. "Shut it, Elwood, before I put a few holes in you to fit your harmonica."

Medea was torn between crying and laughing at the Blues Brothers joke. She found herself smiling because it meant Logan was slowly regaining his memories. Jean put a calming hand on Logan's arm, while shooting the other man a warning glare. Medea heard Logan's claws retracting and he reluctantly returned to his seat. Medea wiped her mouth with her sleeve, too shaken to mind her manners.

The white-haired woman offered her a tissue, and Jean summoned a glass of water. Medea thanked them quietly. "I'm Ororo Munroe, but I go by Storm." The olive-skinned woman introduced herself.

"Scott Summers, Cyclops." Sunglasses offered curtly.

Medea bowed her head slightly. "It's...it's a lovely place you have here."

The professor gave her a genuine smile. "We would be happy to have you here, if you'd like."

Medea shook her head. "I'm not like you...I'm...a very ordinary human. This place is not for me." Medea informed him sadly. "If you could help me cross the border to Mexico, I'll handle it from there though."

"What?" The white-haired woman gasped. "You're not a mutant?"

The professor seemed intrigued. "Then how did you manage to free everyone?"

Medea shrugged. "Humans depend heavily on technology. I had access to the facility's security systems."

The others, with the exception of Logan, exchanged puzzled looks. The professor and Jean were looking so intently at each other, Medea could swear they were communicating.

"We don't teach human students." The annoying sunglasses man spoke again.

Logan gave him a cold glare. "I doubt you can teach her anything. She's a fucking computer genius, I'm sure you can find her a useful position."

The professor weighed his words. "Well, Magneto left behind many inventions that are beyond my grasp. I suppose I can use assistance from someone who is tech-savvy."

"Your aircraft is pretty awesome." Medea remarked.

"Do you have any knowledge of aviation?" The professor inquired.

"I served 4 years in the air force's technical division." Medea answered.

"Then it's settled." The professor concluded.

"It's going to take them a few days, but they will realize I was behind the whole thing..." Medea commented warily.

The professor waved his hand in dismissal. "You're safe here. I pity the fool who would try to harm you on the school grounds." The professor said, and there was a very disturbing glint in his bright eyes.

"So I can never leave the school?" Medea pressed.

"For the near future, if you wish to leave the school grounds, we will have one of us escort you." The professor informed her.

"And afterwards?"

"I'm sure with a bit of convincing we can ensure that no one would come looking for you." The professor said cryptically, giving Jean a meaningful stare. "It might take some time to reach the relevant people, so you must be patient."

Medea made a quick assessment of the situation. She did plan her escape rather well, but there was no avoiding the shady characters she would have to trust on her way to freedom. Her other option was putting her faith in the hands of mutants, her fathers greatest enemies and sickest obsession. Medea preferred the devil she knew.

"OK, I'm in." Medea stated.

The professor smiled. "Very well. Can you give us a moment to speak in private?" He addressed the mutants, and they nodded and made their way out. Except for Logan. The professor gave him a pointed stare.

"Are you comfortable staying alone with the bald guy?" Logan said in a mock whisper. "He kinda freaked me out when we got here."

Medea chuckled. "I doubt he's worst than my father."

Logan laughed dryly. "You have a point, kid. I'll be waiting outside."

Medea watched Logan exit, and her anxiety rose immediately. Having someone remotely familiar with her did wonders to calm her.

'We can call him back if you want.'

Medea's mind registered the words but she could swear she did not hear the professor speak. His lips were slightly curved upwards and his expression was almost juvenile. "So that's your power." Medea concluded.

"Yes. I'm a Telepath." The professor confirmed. "I will not invade your thoughts unless you ask me to, but I do sense some irregularities from you."

"Had I been a mutant, my father would have put me in a tube long time ago." Medea said flatly.

"Jean told me you suffer from severe headaches." The professor mentioned.

"I have pretty bad migraines. As long as I take my medication on time, it's tolerable." Medea confirmed. "I can pass you my medical records, if you want."

"Please hand those to Jean. She will file them with the rest of the staff. " The professor was about to continue when Medea cut him.

"What do you mean file? Like papers, folders?" Medea was gaping.

"Well, yes. How would you want us to hold track of our students' and staff medical condition?" The professor raised an eyebrow.

Medea looked at him disbelievingly for a moment. "Ugh...Computers?"

"Magneto did mention that our archiving methods are archaic. But we didn't have people who are proficient enough to set up a more advanced system." The professor admitted.

"You have now." Medea remarked. "Digital medical records would be the first step though. You probably need maintenance scheduling software and supply management. And most importantly, security. You're honestly stuck in the middle ages. I get it that you rely on your powers," Medea made a wide gesture with her hand. "I know there are others out there, mutants, who harbor hatred and seek power. And if they embrace technology, then you are at a great disadvantage."

The professor gave her a long, thoughtful stare. Medea felt something tingling at the very edge of her subconscious and she wondered if he was probing into her mind despite his promise. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"You can feel me, don't you?" He asked with an amused smile.

Medea nodded.

"Are you sure you won't let Jean run a few tests? She is the most gentle caretaker." The professor made another attempt.

"They still have my brother in cryogenic cell." Medea hissed. "I have seen what my father did in the labs for too many years. So many tests. So much pain. So much suffering." Medea recalled, barely above a whisper. "So no, I don't think I can handle any examination at the foreseeable future."

The professor sighed. "I will schedule us a meeting in a week's time. I ask you to prepare plans for your data infrastructure. Please have them as detailed as possible – with budget estimations and time tables." The professor requested.

"I'll need access to a computer. And someone who will show me around so I can make a more educated evaluation." Medea said, feeling slightly better about everything. Being busy with work was her best therapy.

"Take today to rest." The professor said kindly. "Tomorrow Storm will help you explore our facility."

Medea thanked him, and was dismissed. As promised, Logan was waiting outside. "Did it take him so long to probe into your head? Then you're more screwed up than I thought."

Medea gave him the finger. "He didn't. We were talking about the scope of my work, and future projects. This place is so far in the past I'm surprised they have electricity." Medea ranted. "I have so much work ahead of me."

Logan regarded her silently for a moment. "Look kid, don't feel pressured to do anything. And if you don't like it here, I'll take you wherever you want."

"I don't think I will ever get used to you being nice." Medea gave him a concerned look.

Logan rolled his eyes. "I'm not being nice. I just hate to be in someone's debt." Logan said dryly. "And you saved my ass twice."

"Taking into account what my father did to you, I think we're even." Medea retorted with self-loathing, and began walking away from him.

Logan grabbed her arm, where the wounds were still fresh and she tried not to wince. "You're not your father."

Medea laughed bitterly. "Really? I planned his downfall for twenty years. I lied, cheated, bribed, and eliminated any person that could have prevented me from getting the position I aimed for. When the moment of truth came, I seized the opportunity without thinking about possible casualties. I murdered my own father." Medea choked out. "And the plan I made to set you all free? It was ready last year. I just needed more time to secure my own escape."

Logan averted his gaze, and said nothing.

"So can you honestly tell me, I'm not like my father?" Medea hissed. When Logan remained speechless she added. "That's what I thought."


	3. Chapter 3

**A\N: I'm posting the first few chapters together to give you a taste of what's to come. I'm going to try and update weekly, but I'm a lazy fuck so who knows.**

 **Chapter 3 : This Family is Forever**

Logan sighed heavily, exhaling smoke from his cigar. It was pleasant outside. It was calming. The large forest surrounding the school gave him a sense of freedom. It was quiet, and he could hear the sound of nature, not the beeping of labs monitors, or the engine roars of the big city. It was nearly as good as being in his cabin at the mountains in Canada. But not quite. The professor dug those memories out of his still healing brain, and he was starting to remember his life before the cage.

He still expected to see Stryker pop out of nowhere, or have Victor ambushing him behind every corner. He also expected to wake up and find himself back in the cage. But it did not happen. Instead he had a good steak for dinner, and he was sitting outside, smoking a cigar and drinking expensive whiskey. Logan lifted the glass to his lips with a tiny smile.

The professor offered him to stay, as an X-men member, and more ridiculously as a teacher. Logan chuckled just at the thought. Much of an educational figure he was. He was just the sort of influence every parent dreaded. He was a soldier, a mercenary for all of his life and now they expected him to be a teacher. Ludicrous.

Logan longed for the open roads, for the mountain hikes, for the solitude and liberation that was prevented from him for so long. He needed some time by himself. He could not imagine staying at the school at that moment, not after being caged. Being part of another system, another structure, fitting into a different box. It was the opposite of what he needed. Tomorrow at dawn, he would leave for Canada.

He heard soft footsteps not far away behind him. It stopped promptly and then resumed, moving away from him. Logan sniffed, and the fresh air made the identification easy. "I heard you, kid. Come over."

He heard her stop in her tracks, and then the reluctant shuffle of her feet as she made her way to him. She awkwardly halted beside him, tugging at her long sleeves. Her face were mostly covered by the hood of her sweatshirt. "Sit. You could use a drink."

Medea took a seat on the bench beside him, and he poured her a generous portion of whiskey. He raised a challenging eyebrow at her hesitation.

Medea looked at the glass distrustfully. "Do you have any diseases I should be aware of ? Herpes?"

Logan could not remember the last time he had such a good laugh. His healing wounds were practically hurting. "Not that I know of. I assume, with my regenerative abilities, that I'm disease free."

Seemingly satisfied with his answer, Medea reached for the glass and downed its capacity in one shot. Logan searched her face for any signs of uneasiness, but she drank it like it was water. Now he was impressed. He filled her another glass immediately.

"How are your bullet wounds?" Medea asked meekly.

"Almost healed." Logan replied casually. "They usually heal much faster, but those bullets..."

"They were Adamantium bullets." Medea volunteered. "They were supposed to make much more damage, and slow down the healing process. My father planned to shot you in the head, and thus erase your memory. Again"

Logan was shaken for a moment. Having his memory wiped, just as he started recalling who he was again, was a horrible prospect. "He was sure thorough with his planning."

Medea sighed. "I was hoping it wouldn't come this. He developed a bit of drinking problem, and I was hoping he would be hammered by the time the fiasco started..."

"Why didn't you make sure he was drinking that night?" Logan inquired.

"Couldn't do that. It meant getting close to him and that would have jeopardized everything." Medea argued. "My father was a very perceptive man. The only reason I managed to pull this off, is because I never, ever, drew his attention."

Logan considered her words. Stryker was indeed sharp and honed, and he could understand why she opted to keep her distance. Never having his attention. He did not have a very delightful childhood himself, from the little he remembered, but being completely ignored by your father must have been pretty awful. Stryker was a ruthless murderer and a sociopath, but for all he knew, he was Medea's only family.

"I saw you interact, you know. I would have never guessed you were related, if I didn't hear the staff gossip." Logan said, attempting to compliment her.

Medea gave him a sad smile and emptied the second glass. She poured herself the third one. "Everything went perfectly well, except for the last part. I never imagined my first kill would be my father."

Logan gaped at her as she took the third shot. "That was your first kill?"

Medea nodded and he let out a low whistle. Logan was impressed for the second time that evening. When she made a move to pour herself another one, he stopped her. "Are you sure you can handle that much? That will be your fourth glass in like twenty minutes."

Medea gave him a completely sober and measured stare. "I had a good dinner."

Logan chuckled. Obviously when your stomach is full you can drink more, but no amount of food could absorb that much alcohol in so little time. "You weigh no more than 100 pounds. Are you sure you want to have another shot?"

Medea glared at him. "I was a 106 last time I had a weigh in. And yes, I'm certain."

Logan raised his hands in surrender and let her pour herself another portion. In the worst case, she will drink herself unconscious and he would just carry her to her room. She certainly earned the privilege to indulge. "So, how is your first impression of the professor?"

"He's an alright guy. Although both him and Jean were insisting I let them examine me and it was annoying." Medea shared.

Logan snickered. "I'd let her examine me. I'd play doctor and patient with her anytime."

Medea laughed wholeheartedly. "Oh, the big bad wolf has a crush!"

Logan raised his eyebrow in a semi seductive way. "More like spotted his prey."

"I think you might have competition." Medea mentioned teasingly. So she also noticed there was something going on between Jean and that asshole Summers.

"You mean that wimp with the sunglasses?" Logan retorted arrogantly. "He's hardly a competition."

Medea smirked at his self assurance. Logan was slightly surprised to see that she rather liked his smug, swaggering attitude. Usually women wrinkled their noses at his bragging. "Good luck with that. I promise to put my money on you if it ever comes up." Medea grinned.

"You have to wait some time before collecting your money, kid." Logan said. "I'm leaving tomorrow."

"Oh." Medea said weakly.

"I'll come back though." Logan assured her. She sent him a forced smile and he found himself groaning inwardly. He picked her cell phone from the table and added his number to her contacts. "I don't promise I'll answer you, but you can try."

This earned him a slightly brighter smile and for some reason it pleased him. He poured himself another glass, and they sat in silence for a while. Medea had another two glasses before it became cold and they decided to head back. Logan was watching her as she walked, looking for any signs of intoxication. She looked tired and worn out, but surprisingly sober. She was definitely full of surprises.

* * *

Medea quickly learned that the school, while completely real and operative, was also serving as a facade for the whole X-Men facility in the lower levels. Medea was mentally rubbing her hands together with a maniac glee every time she pondered the endless opportunities it held. She, naturally, understood the importance of having a mutant vigilante guard, especially with the school being a safe place for many children that could be malevolently used by numerous groups.

But ideals aside, it was the greatest challenge she had ever had, as a software developer and engineer. Medea realized that she had the opportunity to design the architecture and write from scratch the infrastructure for what could be possibly, one of the strongest organizations in the world. Medea knew, that it was her handy work, which could give them the technological advantage to become a formidable force in an international scale. And she was not going to fuck it up.

Medea watched the professor and Scott, as they read her files. She presented them with a 15 pages long requirement specifications, 20 pages of architecture and design description and another few pages of resource estimation, risk management and Gantt charts.

Scott was gaping at her. "You did this in a week?"

"I actually finished it two days ago but the printer didn't work." Medea remarked casually.

The professor went straight to the point, focusing on the resource estimation. "I see you separated your vision into three different projects: Data management infrastructure, Smart facilities and security. Can you describe each one in a few words?"

"DMI includes the establishment of a server cluster – it's a place where you can store and manage all your data, like medical records. In addition to buying the computers, you will set up the actual intranet of the facility, connecting main services to the network. It's like installing phone lines, but much cooler." Medea simplified. "Smart facilities means you can keep track on your energy consumption, manage your supplies and handle maintenance in a semi, or even fully automated way. And security, well, it's pretty self-explanatory."

"If I understand the...DMI is essential for the establishment of all other projects?" The professor inquired.

Medea nodded. "Yes. Once you have a clever and efficient system to manage your data, you can utilize it to pretty much everything."

"Well, then, I suppose it makes the decision much easier for me." The professor gave her a kind smile. "I see however, that you require 4 professionals to complete this phase. Is it so complex?"

"Not at all. I need the personnel strictly for the physical installation of the network. It could have been done with only 1 or 2, but..." Medea trailed off, trying to gather her thoughts. "We usually compartmentalize. It means we don't want a single person to know the entire layout or architecture of the system."

"But you will know it." Scott intervened.

"Well obviously, since I'm a one-man-team." Medea drawled. "But at least we can prevent any outsourcing bodies from knowing it."

"You certainly have valuable experience from your military service." The professor commented. "Do you still have any contacts inside the organization?"

Medea averted her look to her shoes. Her former team, before she was transferred to the three-mile island, they took an oath to stay loyal. This family is forever, use to be their motto. Medea was genuinely terrified to test it. "I'm...I'm not sure."

The professor did not press further. "You have my authorization to begin the first phase – the DMI. Tomorrow we will start the purchasing of the equipment."

"Just another small request. Can I get my own work space? Working in the library was straining my concentration to extreme." Medea asked hopefully.

"Do you have any objections to working in the lower levels?" The professor inquired.

"No. It would be preferable, since the server cluster should be located there as well." Medea replied.

"I'll make sure to settle this today." The professor promised.

Just then Storm entered the office. "Sorry to disturb, but Jean was looking for you, and you got mail."

Storm handed Medea a simple white envelope. There was no reason anyone would search for her in the school, or even believe that she was alive. "If this isn't a X-Men membership card sent by you, professor, I'd be really concerned."

"You're not in X-Men." Scott said arrogantly.

"It is yet to be seen. Medea's involvement in our team is not unreasonable as you might think." The professor corrected him.

"I need to figure out what the hell is going on." Medea jumped from her chair, and left without excusing herself.

Medea ripped the envelope open, marching to the library. Inside was a generic flyer advertisement for a wild life journal. Medea would have dropped the issue as bizarre coincidence if not the very eye catching owl logo. In the very bottom of the flyer, was the address of a website. Medea quickly searched it on one of the computers.

Briefly going over the site's content, it was a perfectly convincing and genuine looking magazine for nature enthusiasts. But the owl logo, it held a personal meaning for her that only very few were familiar with. And these group of special individuals would definitely choose a very roundabout and discrete way of communicating with her.

On a whim, Medea downloaded the owl logo at the top left corner of the website and checked if it carried any metadata. Sure enough, it had GPS coordinates. Medea did not need to search those up, she remember them very well. It was a very specific place in Iran, and she would never forget that crazy mission. This was no coincidence, she just had to dig a little further to find the message that was left for her.

She noticed the login box in the let side of the screen. She entered "Owl" as her username and her personal number as password. A message appeared, saying it was the incorrect password for the username. Well, at least she got something right. Medea tried all the personal information that could be used as her password but it all failed.

Medea smacked her forehead. If she wanted to contact someone anonymously, surely she would not use any details that can give out their identity, just in case some unwanted party would try to snoop around. So whatever the password was, it was not about her. Medea scanned the flyer again, trying to find something that can be used as a password. She searched the website again, but to no avail. But then a certain mission came in mind. Medea checked the CRC of the owl image, and used it as the password. Bingo.

She was redirected to a standard user profile, notifying her she had one message in her inbox. She clicked her inbox and found a typical welcome message asking her to download a form and fill it to complete the registration. Medea followed the instructions, but the downloaded file seemed to be corrupted. Medea rolled her eyes. She would have to do it the hard way. Sighing, she tried to decrypt it with her team's usual key, and then view it as a text file but all she got was a meaningless collection of symbols. Knowing her teammates had a tendency to be smart-asses, she opened the file as binary and she shifted it 4 bits right and then XORed it with 1. Why? Because their squad code was SR4X1(Software regiment, 4th battalion, special operations squad 1) and it would be so much like them to do something sneaky like that.

"Congratz Owl. I guess it was a piece of cake for you after your last spectacle. Official reports say that you're dead, but I ain't buying it. So does the others. My sister told me they got many new students at school, just when slivers of information started leaking about the breakout. We don't know your location, so it's a wild goose. We revived our deprecated XKeyScore darknet, just in case."

Medea smiled to herself. 'Wild goose' was not a typo. It was Goose who found her. Or took a lucky bet and guessed where she is. She never knew his sister was a mutant, but it was hardly surprising he kept that information to himself. Medea realized her eyes were moist, and there was a wet trail of tears running down her cheeks. So this family was forever. Relieved and happy beyond words, Medea closed the website, deleted the message and logged out of the computer. She made her way to Jean's lab.

Two packs of tablets were flying in her direction when she entered the lab. "That's the medicine you requested." Jean informed, while ordering some test tubes.

"Thanks." Medea said appreciatively.

"Those are pretty aggressive medications though." Jean turned around to face her. "I can offer you alternative treatment, with less side effects."

"I'll stick with the poison I know." Medea rejected the offer.

"Stubborn." Jean muttered. "I can see why you and Logan get along so well."

"Hmm... I only knew Logan for a day and a half before he left." Medea corrected her. "I wouldn't classify watching him caged as 'acquaintance'."

"Well, you're the only one he doesn't growl at." Jean retorted with her hands on her hips.

"I'm pretty sure he gives you the sexy roar." Medea winked.

Jean laughed. "I'm with Scott."

"I don't think it would stop him." Medea speculated.

"As I said, stubborn." Jean smiled.

"Get used to it. We are going to work closely on upgrading your record system." Medea said.

"Yeah so I've heard. I think it's a great idea." Jean admitted. "But paper or digital, I don't have anything on all the ones who were rescued. Can you get a hold on any of it?"

Medea nodded. "I suppose I can. But it would take a while. Too many frequent queries about these mutants would draw unwanted attention."

Jean gave her a long, examining stare. "You are truly a resource to this school. So I'm going to pester you about your health constantly."

"I'll brace myself." Medea replied dryly.

Later that night, Medea stared at her reflection in the mirror after taking a shower. Her dirty blond hair was hanging past her ears now and normally she ought to get it cut. She sported a boyish, short haircut ever since joining the army. She decided to let it grow.


	4. Chapter 4

**A\N: If anyone is reading this story, speak up. My life sucks and I need reassurance.**

 **Chapter 4: Back to School**

Logan was enjoying a glass of Whiskey in front of his fireplace, alternating between drinking and smoking his cigar. He was not entirely sure what he was looking for when he came back here, but he certainly found it. Although, knowing himself, he would find that serenity dull eventually, and seek new adventures. And when that time came, he knew where he was heading.

He did not hear from Medea since he left, 3 months ago. For the most part, he was relieved that she was not the type of clingy female who demanded constant attention, especially when he was not planning on gaining anything from her. Yes, she was old enough to consider, but her face was ridiculously young and her body appeared to be equally underdeveloped. He would definitely invest some effort in someone like Jean, if that meant he gets to shag a bombshell, but Medea did not even register as a sexual being as far as he was considered. Although in the short time he spent with her, she did spark his interest.

Which led him to feel a bit annoyed. Not that it bothered him normally, but on times like these when he was in a certain mood and pondering, he wondered why she did not contact him. It might have had something to do with his ego, since women did not usually discard him. No, it was mostly due to the fact that he was genuinely worried about her. If she was happy at the school, or if she was at the school at all. If he was being completely honest with himself, it would ease his conscious to know she was well. It was not the first night he wondered how she was doing, but it was the first time he got some sort of an answer, when his phone buzzed.

Groaning, he reached for the phone to see who would disturbed him. He found himself grinning when he saw it was a message from Medea.

"I'm drinking by myself. Couldn't find a new drinking buddy. Happy birthday old man."

Logan chuckled and typed. "I'm irreplaceable. How did you know it was my birthday?"

"Your favorite redhead asked me to fetch your medical records." Came the swift answer.

"Well, now you know I don't have Herpes. I hope you didn't do anything reckless to get it."

"You're so ancient your Herpes died of old age. I still have some inside connections, don't worry."

She was entertaining, he'd give her that. The old-man jokes usually got on his nerves but he found hers to be pretty amusing. Logan wondered how did she manage to keep her connections though. He would inquire about it when he returned. "How are you doing, kid?"

"I'm OK, busy mostly. I'm going back to work right now actually. Have a demo tomorrow."

"Don't overwork. Stay in good drinking shape, I'll be back soon."

Logan was not sure why he wrote he would be back soon. He did not plan to return soon. But suddenly the idea was not so appalling. His favorite redhead was still concerned about him, and he was unlikely to find a hot babe like her in the Canadian mountains. Also, he was more than slightly intrigued about his medical files, there was much he did not know about his condition and it did bother him constantly. And truth to be told, it got somewhat boring to be drinking alone.

* * *

"You're kidding me, right?" Medea was giving Storm a distressed look.

"No. try it on." Storm insisted, handing her the shiny black fabric.

As if the bra shopping was not traumatic enough, Medea cringed. Surrendering, she took the offensive garment from Storm, and entered the changing room. The process of wearing the uniform was far from easy, since it was skin tight and had way too many buckles, belts and buttons. Medea realized that in case of emergency she would have to be quick to put it on, and that actually required some training on her part. Bloody ridiculous.

"Come out already." Storm teased her.

With overwhelming reluctance, Medea stepped out of the room, walking towards Storm, who was standing by a full length mirror. Storm took in her appearance with guarded expression. Medea inwardly flinched at her reflection. "Does it have to be so tight?"

"It's not tight, it's snug." Storm corrected her. "You look good."

"Yeah it definitely accents my female assets but why is it necessary?" Medea frowned at the way her breasts were emphasized in the leathery suit.

"So you won't die an old spinster." Storm replied acidly. "It's lunch time. Get changed and let's get some food."

Taking a seat in the staff's table, Medea served herself some pasta. There seemed to be a commotion in the dining room when a certain bearded man entered the hall. He immediately locked eyes with Jean, who was also standing by the doors. They appeared to have a pretty heated welcome chat, and Medea knew better than to interrupt a predator in his hunt. It did not take long before Scott arrived, interfering with their conversation. Logan gave him a loathing glare before he disappeared from her sight, probably leaving the hall. Medea returned her focus to her food, when a heavy hand ruffled her hair.

"Hey!" She cried out, using her fork to stab whoever was behind her.

She heard the clash of metal against metal when her attack was blocked. "That's a rude welcome."

Medea turned around to see Logan, her fork stuck between his claws, with a spaghetti hanging from one of them. Apologetically, she handed him a tissue. "Sneaking on someone from behind isn't really polite either." She muttered.

Logan wiped the food from his claws, sending her a crooked smile. "I guess I had it coming."

"Are you going to take a seat, or you'll just tower over me for the rest of the meal?" Medea inquired cheekily.

"I don't really approve of the company." Logan gave Scott a dirty look. "Mind if we eat out?"

"Not at all." Medea replied, picking up her plate. Logan loaded two plate with medium rear stakes and potato mesh, and they went out to the lawns. Sitting down at a picnic table, they dag in their food.

"Your hair's longer." Logan remarked.

"It happens when you don't cut it for a couple of months." Medea smirked.

"Looks nice. Keep it long." Logan stated.

"Right, like I'm gonna take beauty tips from you." Medea drawled.

Logan raised an eyebrow. "You don't think I'm attractive?"

"If I ever need help with grooming my beard, I promise I'll come straight to you." Medea quipped.

"You're avoiding the question."

"For your ego's sake." Medea childishly stuck out her tongue. "And anyway, I'm not the one you need to convince of your appeal."

Logan groaned. "I had her in my pocket until that asshole showed up."

Medea gave an uncommitted hum, trying not to laugh at his delusional perception.

"Why did you come back?" Medea inquired.

Logan stabbed his steak unnecessarily for a long moment. "Got bored from drinking by myself." He said with a lopsided smirk.

"Well, we can fix it tonight." Medea suggested. "Do you...do you want me to bring your records?"

Logan regarded her quietly for some time. "Yeah, thanks."

* * *

Logan loathed being used as guinea pig, or as a test subject, but he found himself drastically less opposed to it when it was Jean who was doing the testing. He would just lay there and let her take his measures, track his healing speed, while he got to watch her swaying her fantastic ass across the lab, or bending over to take notes and exposing just a little more cleavage than appropriate.

Today she put him on the treadmill and let him sweat a little, examining his stamina. Logan pondered with a tiny bit of self-degradation, how pleased he was to show off his muscles in front of an attractive female. Well, Stryker always said he was an animal.

Jean was checking him out way more than necessary, which was not surprising as he used the exercising as an excuse to take off his shirt. And Logan knew he was well built. She adjusted the running speed to the maximum, trying to wipe the arrogant smirk from his face, but he was hardly challenged. A few moments later, Jean stopped the machine, and walked towards him, taking off all the monitors and electrodes from his chest.

"You know, I can last much longer than that..." Logan remarked suggestively, making Jean blush and fumble with the equipment.

Jean threw a towel at him. "I'm certain, but I have collected all the information that I need already." She completely ignored his innuendo.

"And to what conclusions did you reach after ogling me?" Logan teased, wiping the sweat from his glistening torso.

"Regardless of how unprofessional you think I am," Jean said curtly. "I'm with Scott."

"Oh, I'm no doctor, but I have a cure for that darling." Logan said in a rough voice.

Jean gave him an annoyed look. He could tell she was angry with him, but that her body was betraying her and showing signs of lust. His elevated senses could definitely tell she was attracted to him. "We're done here" Jean dismissed him.

Logan took a few steps towards her, putting his shirt back on. "We haven't even started yet, doc."

Jean gave him a prolonged look, that seemed torn between jumping his bones or breaking them. "I need to ask a favor from you." Jean said. "I think Medea has been losing weight lately and is certainly overworking. Can you grab something from the kitchen and bring it down to her lab?"

Logan seemed surprised. How can anyone tell Medea's weight with the shapeless, oversize garments she wore? If Jean was right, it was indeed a bit worrying, and he had never been to her lab before so why the hell not. "Will I get a kiss if I do it?" Logan tried his luck.

Jean laughed, and standing on her toes, placed a kiss on Logan's cheek. It was a bit disappointing, but better than nothing at all, and it certainly became satisfying when Scott stepped into the lab in a very poor timing just then. Logan gave him a challenging look when walking out, leaving them to have a very unpleasant conversion. Her scent lingered in his mind, and somehow it was not what he expected.

Logan decided to take a shower first, heading to the staff quarters. He was next door to Medea, but she was hardly ever in her room. Taking that shower was definitely a good idea. Logan assumed he smelled rather appalling after 2 hours on the treadmill, and washing the sweat off definitely felt good. But what felt even better was relieving all that sexual tension from spending those 2 hours around Jean. He had an incredible wank, thinking about how he would fuck her against that metal desk in her lab. Clean and lax, he made his way to the kitchens, and began piling food on a plate.

"Hungry again, Logan?" He heard Storm. "You had lunch with us."

"Jean had me running on her treadmill up until now." Logan complained. "I actually came to take food for Medea."

"Oh, good." Storm said, picking up an energy drink. "She slept through breakfast and lunch because she worked until late night yesterday."

Logan replied with an uncommitted hum, filling up another plate, since he was actually pretty hungry himself. He remembered Medea did not eat meat, and tried to recall what she preferred eating. Medea liked pasta, and fries and spicy rice and basically...carbs. He added some vegetables, in hopes of convincing her to eat them. Taking cutlery for both of them, and the plates, he proceeded to the lower levels. He was about to kick the metal doors of her lab, since his hands were occupied, but they instantly opened up.

Her work place was spacious. One part of it had bookshelves from floor to ceiling, with a comfortable looking armchair and a rugged sofa. The other part held countless monitors, and a few computers, around a L shaped desk. There was a very messy blackboard on one of the walls, and he noticed another door besides the one he came from. And all of that was engulfed in darkness, that was slightly lighted up by the monitors. It was also very, very cold in there.

"Nice place you got here." Logan remarked, making Medea jump at least two feet in the air, nearly falling from her chair.

"I didn't realize you were here." She answered, seemingly confused.

"Jean sent me here to bring you food." Logan clarified.

"Oh," Medea noticed the plates in his hands. "Is it all for me?"

Logan chuckled at her puzzlement. "No, I was hungry and I thought we can eat together."

"We can eat there." Medea pointed at the area where the sofa and the armchair were.

Logan took the armchair, wanting to test if it was cozy as it looked. Medea took her plate from him and began nibbling her food. She was shifting it from side to side while looking incredibly distracted. "You're supposed to eat it, not play with it." Logan rebuked her.

Medea seemed to snap out from her trance and actually began eating, sending him an apologetic smile. "Thank you. For bringing me food."

"Maybe it will help me score with Jean." Logan winked at her.

Medea rolled her eyes at him. "And I thought I was special."

Logan mused for a moment. "You are. I'd probably bring anyone else food to please Jean, but I sure as hell won't sit with them."

Medea smiled and picked up a piece of cucumber examining it like it was the first time she saw a vegetable. After a moment of thought, she took a bite. Logan chuckled at her quirkiness. He nearly finished his meal when he realized how quiet it was there. There was a monotonous buzz from the computers, but other then that, silence. It was like her lab was in a different universe than the noisy, chaotic school. The was a small floor lamp, just beside him, and the armchair was certainly comfy. He could detect the scent of old books, and his eyes trailed along the many bookshelves.

"There are some really good reading books here. This part." Medea pointed at a section of her private library.

"And the rest?" Logan queried.

"The rest are professional literature." Medea replied.

Logan put down his plate, and got up, checking the fiction section. "Are they yours?"

"Yes. I bought many of them along the years." Medea said, between bites. "Some are newer, I convinced the professor that I needed some inspirational reading too."

Logan scanned the shelves appreciatively. Medea's flavor in literature was very similar to his. He might not give a very intellectual impression, but Logan read a lot, especially when he was in his cabin. Logan raised his hand and caressed the spin of one of the books. "Childhood's End. It's one of my favorites."

Medea came to stood beside him, with a bitter smile. "It hits too close to home, doesn't it."

Logan turned to look at her, meeting a pair of green eyes that express uncanny maturity and sensitivity. The book itself held meanings and messages in many levels, and not only was she intelligent enough to read between the lines, she was perceptive enough to tell how it would affect him. "I sometimes wonder if I am going to be the last one left to watch how it all ends."

"I belong to a lesser species who just couldn't make the jump. At least you are a part of the progression." Medea said sullenly. "The future is yours. Or rather, the future is you. "

Logan contemplated for a moment. "Not exactly. He describes Omega levels mutants."

Medea's expression was cynical as she spoke. "But you wouldn't want to be a part of a shared consciousness anyway. You can barely stand sharing oxygen with others."

Logan chuckled. "I guess you're right."

They stood in silence for a few moments, each in his own thoughts. Medea spoke first. "You can come here, to read. If you want."

Logan honestly was tempted. The school was too loud, too crowded. This place offered him an escape. "I wouldn't bother you when you're working?"

"No. I probably won't even notice you're here." Medea assured him. "According to protocol the lab is off limits to anyone but me. But I already added you to the permission list."

Realization dawned. "That's why the doors opened automatically when I got here."

Medea nodded. "Yes, face detection. The lab is normally locked."

Logan stared at her appreciatively. He was not an expert in technology but it was obvious Medea was doing a marvelous job. She made so much progress in just a few months. He wondered where and how one draws the line between a genius and a mutant. Medea sent him another half smile, thanked him again for the food, and returned to her work, diving back in. He stayed a few more minutes, watching her, while she was completely and utterly oblivious to him.


	5. Chapter 5

**A\N : Thanks ChocoPretzels for reviewing. I'd really appreciate some feedback from the rest of the silent readers. I know you're out there.**

 **Chapter 5: Give me 20!**

Logan took her up on her offer. He would drop by her lab once or twice a week, usually in the evening, and read on the armchair for hours. Medea did not mind, mostly because she was so engrossed in her work she did not even notice his presence. They hardly talked when he was there and the longest conversation they had was when Logan pulled out his cigar, holding it in his mouth without lighting it, with a frustrated expression. Medea noticed him chewing on it when she got up to grab a book from the library.

Chuckling, she lightly touched his shoulder. Logan averted his eyes from the book to her. Medea pointed at a white distribution board at the corner of the lab. "You can turn off the smoke alarm here." Medea suggested, walking to the panel and pulling one of the switches down.

Logan looked at her appreciatively. "You don't mind me smoking here?"

"No. I actually like the smell." Medea replied with a smile, and returned to the library to search for the book she needed. She groaned when she spotted it at the highest shelf, beyond her reach. She was about to take off her shoes and climb on the sofa to reach it when a pair of hands gripped her waist and easily lifted her up, so all she had to do was grab the book in front of her. Logan put her back down once the book was in her hand.

Logan smirked at her with the cigar in his mouth, lit it up, and returned to the armchair. He could have simply gotten the book himself if he wanted to help. It was a pointless display of his strength, and probably a roundabout way to mock her petite frame, but she was not going to question Logan's logic as long as she got what she wanted. She gave him a soft smile even though he was not looking at her, and thanked him before returning to her desk.

Medea was neck deep in work, trying to single-handedly design and implement the system that would support the school and the X-men facility. She eventually decided to separate it to two different systems, so that curious individuals would not be able to use breaches in school-related software to access the more classified data of the X-men project. There were many places where these systems intertwined - Medical records were obviously highly secured, but it was reasonable for students to login to their private profile to review their test results, or the date of their next physical exams. At Jean's request, students and staff could schedule an appointment with her if they were feeling ill or wanted to consult her. So Medea had to put a lot of thought into a design that would allow users to access relevant information while preventing them from snooping around.

It was hard. What she did in the three-mile island was also complicated, but it focused on a very narrow and specific field of cyber security that she was accomplished in, and while the process and the waiting was nerve-wrecking, it was not much of a technical challenge. This was different. She had to take into account more factors, and her work focused on building and creating rather than finding a breach to take down the system. She never dealt with user interfaces before, and had very little grasp of what people, normal people who were not tech-savvy, would find easy to use. Luckily, the professor assigned Storm to her help. She definitely had good eye for details and intuitive understanding of proper design. Maybe because she operated the jet, Storm could immediately tell if the interface was unnatural or confusing. Storm also brought Rogue along, and the student showed remarkable abilities, elegantly sketching detailed layouts according to what Medea tried to implement.

Medea knew she was overworking herself. Her headaches got worse and more frequent and her body was aching all over because she neglected it. When one morning, she literally could not get out of bed, she made a conscious decision to take better care of herself. Despite her busy schedule, Medea dedicated an hour a day to walk around the school. On the lawns, sometime in the forest, even running up and down the stairs a few times to get her blood pumping again. She saw Logan outside with the students quite often, and seeing him teach was her favorite pastime.

It was obvious Logan did not want to teach. But at the same time, he was too stubborn to give up on the students. They all respected him, some of them feared him, and a few actually liked him on a certain level. Rogue, despite being a less than eager participant in his classes, definitely fancied him. It was hard to tell if her adoration was simply a crush, or an outcome of viewing him as a fatherly figure. Logan was significantly less mean to her than he was to the others. Colossus idolized Logan, and was one of his best and most dedicated students. It only resulted in Logan being harder on him than on anyone else, and Colossus seemed to take it as encouragement, and was improving at rapid speed. Bobby, who was in love with Rogue, was torn between admiring Logan and loathing him.

Logan was having a very loud discussion with Jubilee, who was chewing a gum in a very inelegant way. "When I tell you to drop down and give me 20, you fucking do it, bub!" Logan pointed his finger at her face.

"Look, push ups are not for girls." Jubilee argued calmly, showing him her fancy nails. "We just physically can't."

Medea could not help but laugh, and sound of her amusement caught Logan's attention. "Hi, come over here!" He called for her.

Still smirking, Medea walked towards him. Logan was glaring at Jubilee until Medea halted by his side. "She's a girl?" Logan asked Jubilee, pointing at Medea.

Jubilee gave her a bored look. "Yeah, I guess."

Logan turned to Medea. "30 push ups." Logan ordered.

"You're fucking kidding me." Medea uttered darkly, and Jubilee giggled in the background.

"I'm proving a point. You were an officer in the military, surely you can pull off 30." Logan said harshly, but the look he was giving her was almost pleading.

"Fine." Medea surrendered, and dropped to her knees. She was going to get mud on her clothes and she was not happy about it. She got into stance, and Logan knelt next to her, placing his fist on the ground. Medea flared her nostrils, he was really pushing it. Medea performed the push-ups, going all the way down until her chin touched Logan's fist. Her arms were burning by the time he counted 20, but she finished the set regardless.

When she was done, everyone was looking at her with appreciation. Jubilee was still unconvinced. "Well, I ain't doing it anyway." She said childishly, crossing her arms over her chest.

Logan groaned with irritation, and turned to look at Medea. He punched her shoulder lightly, as if she was not hurting enough. "Well done, kid. You have a good technique."

"Maybe, but I'm out of shape." Medea whined, rubbing her sore arms. The bell was heard just then, and Logan dismissed the class. "You so owe me!" Medea poked his chest, once the students scattered.

Logan grinned at her. "I'll make it up for you. We can train together, get you back in shape."

Medea narrowed her eyes at him. "I don't consider more physical activity as compensation."

"It will be good for you. You're sitting on that damned computer for too many hours." Logan countered, and Medea knew he was right. "So, what do you say?"

The concept of exercising was not exactly appealing to Medea. But spending more time with Logan was something Medea secretly longed for. "Fine." Medea grumbled.

Logan ruffled her hair with an arrogant smirk. "Go change into something you can train in. I'll meet you in the gym in 20." Logan stated.

"Wh-What! You can't just order me around like that! I have other things planned!" Medea protested.

Logan turned around and began walking away. With his back to her, he said. "You're down to 19 minutes now. Better be quick."

Medea groaned in frustration and reached her room in a light jog. Did she even have any training clothes? Medea grabbed the X-men trainers she used to sleep in when it was cold and put them on, making her way to gym with obvious displeasure. Logan was already on one of the treadmills, and when he spotted her he motioned her to come and take the treadmill to his left. Medea stepped on it reluctantly.

"Don't be too hard on me, OK?" Medea pleaded.

Logan turned to look at her while running. "If I were any softer with you I'd start knitting sweaters and baking apple pies." Logan said dryly, obviously disgusted with how leniently he treated her.

Medea had the most hilarious mental image for a moment – Logan, wearing an apron and fluffy slippers, knitting sweaters. It was so comical she nearly fell off the treadmill. Logan gave her a side glance that was almost threatening and Medea collected herself and continued to run in a moderate pace. 20 minutes later, Logan reached with his hand to her treadmill controller and sped up her pace. Medea cursed him under her breath, which was not quiet enough as he spat "Watch it, kid!"

A while later, Medea was starting to feel faint, her breath quick and shallow, and her legs heavy as lead. Logan decided to spare her and decreased the pace, so she could keep up with it if she walked quickly. A few moments later he slowed it down to an easy strolling. When he finally let her off, checking the display to see her scores, Medea collapsed on the nearest fitness mattress.

"I'm dying." Medea put a hand against her forehead dramatically.

Logan snorted. "You're finally living." Logan sat beside her, pulling her up to sit. "Now, stretch."

Medea did as he told her, knowing that if she did not comply, tomorrow everything will hurt ten folds, with Logan watching her thoughtfully. "You did pretty good actually, for someone who is ideologically lazy."

"I'm not lazy." Medea argued. "I was in a pretty good shape in the army. Because I had to run for my life from time to time. And now ...Well, I don't."

"So you think you're safe now?" Logan sneered at her. "You're in more danger now than you ever were before. And it won't take long before the professor will ask you to go on missions."

"Missions? Me?" Medea was confused. "Why?"

"You're smart." Logan replied with a grin.

"It's not a super power." Medea rolled her eyes at him.

"No, but it's definitely a trait we lack in the team." Logan remarked, making Medea laugh herself to tears. Yeah, maybe workouts with Logan were not such a bad idea after all.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thank you, GrayBlueEyedBelle!  
Yes, I have seen Logan (cosplayed as the older X23).  
I ended up whipping harder than Peter Parker over uncle Ben's death. **

**Chapter 6: Same Whiskey, Different Settings**

Logan was frustrated. He has been trying to track Victor for the past two months, and nothing. Anyone who might have known him was already dead, and he found no traces, no trails, no leads. Logan took a sip from his whiskey, staring down at the dirty wooden bar. So all his former teammates were dead. All but Victor. Logan had an ominous feeling that Victor would find him, at the worst possible moment, and make it even more awful. There was also another option, in which Victor would find him when Logan has finally found some peace, and brutally take it away from him. It would not be the first time.

Emptying his drink, Logan made a decision. If he wasted all of his time trying to beat Victor to the punch, then Victor won anyway. No, he would have to live his life the way he wanted to. But he would make sure to be very well prepared when the bastard shows up again. Paying the old bartender, Logan got out of the pub and mounted his bike. It was early afternoon, and if he drove fast he could reach the school by nightfall.

Logan loved driving, especially motorcycles. At high speed he could feel how his inhuman instincts were put to test, how his keen senses were forced to extremes, the way his body was flooded with adrenaline and his mind was perfectly clear from anything that was not driving. But when he got to the school he was soaked to his underwear from the rain, hungry as a wolf and in dire need of a restroom.

Logan entered the students toilet in the first floor, and had the most satisfying pee of his life. Somewhat less urgently, he texted Medea and was making his way to the kitchens when he ran into Storm. "Rough day?" Storm chuckled at his disheveled state.

"You could say that." Logan said gruffly, checking his phone. "Do you know where I can find Medea?"

"Last time I saw her, she was in Jean's lab." Storm informed him. Seeing Medea did not answer him yet, he gave Storm a curt nod and headed to the infirmary. Medea rarely contacted him when he was away, and to be perfectly honest, seldom even when he was in school. But he did not hear from her for the past two months and it was rather upsetting.

Logan reached the lab, and noticed it was drastically upgraded in the time he spent away. There were more monitors, more buzzing and beeping sounds, equipment he could not imagine its purpose. What he did approved of, were the different levels of lighting in separate areas if the lab. He always did hate the overly bright lights. He located Jean and Medea in one of the corners, both leaning over a metal desk. Jean had some sort of sketch in her hand and she was enthusiastically trying to explain Medea something.

Logan made a few more steps towards them when Jean noticed his presence. Their eyes locked for a long moment and he relished in taking in her alluring features. She was just as hot as he remembered. Her gaze was just as heated as his, and he knew it would not be long before she would surrender to her desires. He just had to keep being persistent and handsome.

"Can you two just fuck already? This is getting unbearable." Medea groaned, packing her laptop.

"What?" Jean cried out.

"This can wait. Take care of all that unresolved sexual tension." Medea winked playfully at her, and made her way out of the lab.

When she passed by him, Logan reached for her, grabbing her hand. "Go talk to her. Scott is...occupied at the moment." Medea gave him an encouraging smile.

Logan tore his eyes from Jean and regarded Medea intently. She was very pale, and her dirty blond hair was a mess crowing her pretty face. "I actually came to see you. Storm said you would be here."

"Oh." Medea peeped. Logan tugged on her hand, pulling her into a hug. She was warm and soft under the many layers she always wore, and having her close was strangely comforting. Medea gave him a light shove, pushing him away. "You smell like a wet dog with a drinking problem."

Logan laughed at her irritation. He did get her clothes a bit wet, and he was certainly reeking for being so long on the roads. "I'll take a shower. Wanna grab dinner?"

Medea nodded. "I'll meet you in the kitchen in 20."

They walked out of the lab together, Medea taking a left turn while Logan took a right, heading to his room. Jean was completely forgotten, as his thoughts were focused on having a first decent meal in a long while, and indulging in fine whiskey instead of the piss-poor quality alcohol he had recently. Logan's lips were still curved upwards in amusement from Medea's reaction, as he scrubbed himself in the shower. They shared a distaste for kitsch, and the tendency to resort to sarcasm in emotional situations. Yes, Medea was candidly fond of him but he could tell she was keeping her guard up, even if she did not even realize she was doing so. Logan, in contrast, sparingly showed any sign of affection. However, he could tell she was growing on him in an alarming speed.

He pulled on his X-Men trainers, throwing his dirty jeans and shirt to the laundry bin. When he reached the kitchens Medea was already there, sipping hot chocolate and browsing through a newspaper. She lifted her gaze to watch him, a smile slowly tugging at her lips. "You look so domesticated."

Logan gave her a warning glare. "When was the last time you saw the sun, vampire runt?"

"About two months ago, shining out of your ass." Medea quipped.

Oh, she was good. "Seems like all the females in this institute are obsessed with my ass."

Medea chuckled. "Your only redeeming feature."

Logan grinned widely at her. "So you find me attractive?"

Medea rolled her eyes. "A little less so when you're actually here."

"I'll let Jean know she has competition now." Logan teased her.

"I don't compete if I can't win." Medea said flatly. "And you're hardly a prize worth fighting for."

Medea never did show any sort of romantic interest in him, but the first part of her reply did make him wonder. Was she that good at keeping her emotions in check?

"I'm wounded." Logan said in mock hurt.

"You'll heal." Medea drawled.

Logan smirked at her quick wit, and started piling food on his plate. "You're not eating?"

Medea stared at him with slight horror. "Dammit, there's two of you now."

Logan raised a questioningly eyebrow.

"Jean had been pestering me constantly, and now you..." Medea sighed tiredly. "Fine, I'll eat, mommy."

Logan cringed. Despite regularly calling her kid, he was deeply disturbed by the idea that she viewed him as a parental figure. He would not mind her calling him daddy in very, very different circumstances though. Wait, what? Logan kicked himself mentally for having those filthy thoughts. For some reason, it felt horribly inappropriate in Medea's context. He risked taking another glance at her as she reluctantly prepared an omelet.

Logan always liked her hair, especially since she wore it longer. She had one of the most expressive faces he had ever seen, and he simply enjoyed watching her infinite arsenal of quirks and twitches. Medea had the most amazing way of letting Scott know what a complete twat he was, without saying a single word. He was past denying his affinity, but he had never sexualized her before. Logan had a keen eye for women, but he could not tell how she looked like without all those layers of black she wore. Logan was man who loved boobs, who appreciated a firm ass, and needed that visual stimulation to spark his interest.

His turbulent thoughts were disturbed when Medea addressed him. "Whiskey?"

"Yeah, sure." Logan replied, and got up, searching the top shelf where they usually held the alcohol. It was empty. Logan turned to look at Medea with confusion.

"Scott made a fuss about storing the alcohol where the kids can abuse it." Medea explained dryly. "So I keep it in my room now."

Logan looked out of the window, to see the rain pouring outside. It was freezing cold even inside, and Medea hugged herself when the thunder struck. "Wanna bring it to my room? I have a fire-place." Logan offered.

Medea's eyes lit up at the mention of the fire-place, and she jumped from the stool. They walked to their dormitories in silence, allowing Logan to assess the situation. He never invited anyone to his quarters, and the only one he considered entertaining there was Jean. Medea and him were fairly close, but they always drank outside or in the kitchen, and never visited each others rooms. Drinking in the solitary of their quarters, in front of the fire-place, was a concept he was not entirely comfortable with. But the circumstances called for it and he wanted his whiskey, so he banished all thoughts about how unwise it was.

Medea knocked on his door a few minutes after he reached his room, dressed in her PJ's and wrapped in a horrid orange and pink checkered blanket. She was also holding onto a very expensive whiskey, so he let her in. "Glenrothes 27. What's the occasion?"

"We're still alive." Medea shrugged, and followed him to sit on the couch in front of the fire-place. He noticed how she sat at a safe distance from him. Logan fought the urge to roll his eyes. Every reasonable female would have put on something sexy, not plain PJ's and a tattered blanket. Every reasonable female would also be sitting on his fucking lap, instead of three feet away.

Logan brought two glasses to the table and filled them up. They drank a few shots in silence before Logan asked. "Why are you drinking?"

Medea stared at the flames for a while before answering. "It helps with the nightmares. They become duller and blurrier and far less real when I drink."

Logan looked at her worriedly. "What nightmares?"

"About the labs. The experiments." Medea replied in a flat voice. "About how my mother killed herself. And my brother, in that cell." Medea examined her whiskey with a blank expression that was far more concerning than if she was wiping. Medea averted her eyes to Logan, her eyes void of emotions. "I wake up over and over, after killing my father. I want to scream, but I just can't find my voice."

Logan sighed heavily. He definitely knew what she was going through. And he hated the fact that she had to endure it. She did not have to endure it alone though. Moving his glass to his right hand, he moved closer to her and wrapped his left arm around her shoulder. Medea was so surprised she nearly dropped her own glass, which was luckily empty by now. She looked up to him, tense and confused.

"I know what it's like. I have them too." Logan offered an explanation.

Medea relaxed slightly. "I know. I hear you, at nights."

Logan stared at her wide-eyed. Was he still screaming in his sleep? Why did she never mention it?

"You're not loud. Usually it's just mumbling. I have a good hearing though." Medea clarified.

Logan narrowed his eyes at her. It took more than reasonably good senses to hear mumbling through thick walls. He knew better than to doubt her though, because Medea proved to be undeniable trustworthy, but it still piqued his interest. There was a flash of lightening and then a thunder rumbled, so loud he could feel it in his bones. Medea snuggled slightly closer to him.

"You're afraid of thunders." Logan chuckled at her, giving her shoulder a light squeeze.

"I'm not afraid of thunders." Medea narrowed her eyes at him. "I just don't particularly enjoy them."

Medea pulled away and poured both of them another glass. She handed him his glass, and leaned back into him, resting her head on his chest. "So how was your journey?"

Her wild hair tickled his chin, and her scent invaded his nostrils. Logan could tell her shampoo definitely had apples in it, and the rest of her smelled like something pleasantly citric. She also brushed her teeth before she came, since her breath was still minty despite the whiskey. While Logan had problems assessing Medea's attractiveness, she got overwhelming approval by his olfactory sense. He bet she would also taste fantastic. Oh, she asked him a question.

"Useless." Logan frowned.

"I thought the whole point was getting some Scott-free time." Medea teased him.

Logan snickered. Yes, it was definitely a bonus. "I was trying to track Victor."

"Why?"

"Because when I try to get on with my life and ignore his existence, he has a very cruel way of reminding me he is still alive. I want to end this." Logan replied.

Medea twisted her neck to look up to him. "That's it? You just want him dead?"

Logan considered her words. No, it was more than wanting him dead. If he found out Victor was already dead, he would not be satisfied. As much as he hated admitting it, Logan needed a closure. There were questions he wanted to ask, and answers he was afraid of hearing. "No, there's more to it."

"I can check my sources." Medea offered.

"And who would they be?" Logan was intrigued. She mentioned them before, regarding his medical files.

"If it tell you, I'd have to kill you. But I'm not sure how to do it." Medea teased him. "They are my only family. Former teammates. We got nearly killed on daily basis for 5 years."

Logan laughed. "Proper way to bond."

"Yeah." Medea agreed with a nostalgic expression. "Most of them are still in the system. Scattered in different departments, and very resourceful."

"Why are they helping you if they're still in the military?" Logan inquired.

Medea let out a dark chuckle. "None of us had any loyalty to the system. We were all in it for the thrill, the challenge. I also knew that unit would pave my way to any position I wanted, if I survived the service." Medea said gloomily.

Logan felt a chill running down his spine. "That sounds eerily familiar. Except for the fact that my teammates killed each other."

"Is Victor the only one left?" Medea asked.

"So it seems." Logan replied sourly.

"Are you going to continue looking for him?" Medea's features were sullen.

Logan contemplated for a moment. "No."

Medea smirked, and then rearranged herself so that she was resting her head against his chest again, snuggled comfortably at his side. Logan found himself enjoying the light pressure of her body, which appeared to be soft in all the right places, and slightly tightened his embrace. It was the most intimate experience he had in decades, all his sexual escapades included, mainly because he tried to avoid any sort of commitment, and that sense of closeness was always lacking in casual sex. But this, whatever it was, he was completely fine with that. Transferring their whiskey nights to his room was not such a bad idea after all.


	7. Chapter 7

**A\N: Thanks for the reviews. What do you love/hate about Medea and Logan's interactions?**

 **Chapter 7: Innocence Lost**

Logan loved the mission briefs. No one was trying to kill him and he was free to ogle Jean in that skin tight leather suit, while Scott was giving him death glares but unable to really do something about it. Medea would usually join them to explain about some new feature. He hardly understood what she said, since it was hard keeping track on the technological progress when you live through 3 centuries. He liked listening to her voice though, and she was adorable in her black assassin garments, shifting uncomfortably under the undivided attention everyone gave here. She was part of the team, even if she stayed behind in missions, even if she was not a mutant. Medea handed some sort of bracelet to Jean, redirecting Logan's attention back to the smoking redhead.

Logan was very against those silly suits in the beginning, but seeing Jean's firm ass clad in leather was totally worth looking like a twat. She was always so prim and proper and it annoyed the fuck out of him, but at the same time he was obsessed with making her bad. He has been failing for quite a long time, so either she did not have it in her, or it was buried so deep even his Adamantium claws could not reach it. Logan was hoping it was the former, because the later was rather unnerving. There was a reason people locked away part of themselves, and he assumed that if Jean ever embraced her dormant dark side, it would be a very terrifying sight.

"Ok, I think you're good to go." Medea said with a tight smile. "Good luck."

Logan watched her leave the aircraft. Today's mission was pretty simple: break into a facility where mutants were imprisoned for experiments, release them and bring them safely to school. For Logan it basically meant following Scott, and getting rid of everything standing in their way. He found that he really did not mind having Scott as the team leader. Logan was completely uninterested in the burden of leadership and when he felt like Scott was utterly off track with his decisions, Logan took liberties and practically disobeyed his direct orders. Scott initially made a fuss about it, but when Logan proved himself as a valuable member of the team, Scott turned a blind eye on Logan's occasional disregard for the rules.

The professor and Scott were discussing that particular site for over a month. Logan was unsure about their prolonged hesitance to act, and was pumped when the mission finally got authorized. It has been a while since he had a chance to sharpen his claws and he was literally looking forward for the action. But when they got there, it was already too late.

They landed the aircraft in a safe distance from the facility. They progressed towards the crumbling building discretely, and much too slow for Logan's taste. When they entered it without meeting any resistance, it was obvious something was inherently wrong. "It's a trap." Logan growled.

Scott glanced at him. "We go on with the mission as planned."

Logan, reluctantly, followed Scott deeper into the building. Medea equipped him with a device that was mapping the facility as they progressed, sending back the information to their servers. Scott had a real-time map projected on his glasses, and he was navigating according to it. The place was eerily quiet and it sent chills down Logan's spine. But there was something much worse, that made him freeze in place. The scent of old dried blood, and the very distinctive reek of necrosis. Logan sniffed again.

"Scott, the door to your left." Logan said in a stiff tone.

Scott was about to argue, but the expression on Logan's face was enough to convince him. Gingerly, Scott pushed the door open. His gasp was all the confirmation Logan needed. The team followed Scott into the room, and were all equally horrified by the sight. There was a long row of rusty, unbelievably small cages. And in front of each cage was a dead body. A very small, and horribly mutilated body.

"They were all children." Jean cried out behind him, as Scott tried to comfort her.

Storm was sniffing, wiping her moist eyes as the shock began to fade. Logan felt as if all of his muscles were locked. He could not move, he could not avert his gaze from a little girl, no more than 5, which laid on the ground with her guts spilling out of her tiny torso. Someone vomited and Logan could feel a dangerous lump in his throat as well. There was this overwhelming feeling that he had seen that before, that he had seen senseless, brutal murder of innocent, especially children. And then it hit him, and he was on his knees, grabbing at his head.

Victor, Stryker, his old crew. Executing natives in some African village. Victor raping women in front of the eyes of their husbands and children. Slicing the throats of infants torn from their mothers' hands. Him trying to stop Victor, stop that madness. The same stench of death in the air, the same helplessness, the same devastating guilt. When opened his eyes he saw his current teammates once again, looking at him worriedly. Jumping to his feet Logan lunged at Scott, grabbing him by the throat.

"This is all on your conscience." Logan yelled at him, fighting against the staggering urge to run his claws straight through Scott's chest. He dropped Scott before he lost control, and started making his way back to the aircraft.

Logan kept having those flashbacks on the ride back. He could not remember the last time he was that emotionally unstable, that feral and angry and bloodthirsty. That guilty. That remorseful. Was he part of all those terrible deeds? He was almost grateful Stryker erased most of his memories. When they landed he did not follow them to see the professor. He made a dash to the forest, far and deep into it, and thrashed everything in his way. Slashing and punching, he left a trail of destruction as he moved forward. He lost any track of time, but he knew a while had past because he was getting tired. He heard a familiar voice but could not place it, or understand it.

The next time, it was clearer. "Logan."

Logan was his name. Someone was calling him. He did not stop his chaotic tantrum.

"Logan!" It was closer now, and he knew that voice. He turned around to see a petite figure clad in black. Medea, the name floated in his mind. "Please, stop."

She took deliberately slow steps towards him, gauging his reaction. Logan was looking at her, with only partial recognition. Something told him she was not a threat, but he still growled at her. She raised her hands, signaling she was unarmed, and closed the distance between them.

"You've destroyed about an acre of land by now." She said with a hint of a laugh.

"I'm...I'm angry." Logan found that he can construct sentences again.

Medea averted her gaze. "I heard. It was probably planned...they wanted to sent a message."

"A message?" Logan repeated with a hoarse voice.

"That they prefer their mutants dead, than in our care. That's what they are going to do every time they will suspect we're coming for them." Medea explained.

It only angered Logan more, but he was suddenly also very tired. "Then what do we do?"

"We'll just have to be very clever about out next rescue attempt." Medea replied calmly.

"They were children." Logan whispered.

"I know. I saw everything live using cameras I had on both Scott and Jean." Medea told him, carefully extending her hand until it rested on his arm. The touch triggered him somehow and he made a wild movement to back away, hitting her with his claws in the process. He watched her horrified when he saw blood trickling from her sleeve.

Medea looked unnaturally calm as she placed her other hand over her arm, pressing down on the wound. Logan looked at his claws with self loathing, and immediately retracted them.

"I'm sorry." He said, regret visible in his features.

"It's just a scratch." Medea brushed it off. "And I shouldn't have stressed you when you're obviously in a bad state."

Logan watched the blood flow decrease, until it stopped, with immense relief. All the tension in his muscles suddenly disappeared and he almost dropped to the ground in a heap. In a very inelegant attempt, he managed to settle himself on a tree log. Medea waited until he made eye contact with her, before taking a seat next to him. She extended him her unharmed hand, looking at him expectantly. When he could not figure out the gesture she rolled her eyes. "Take my hand."

Unsure, he opened his clutched fist and took her hand in his. It was cold, but soft, and she gave him a reassuring squeeze. Her fingers traced patterns on the back of his hand, lolling him into a state of calmness. His body was lax when she scooted closer to him, cautiously letting go of his hand and instead rubbing his shoulder in a soothing way. Logan looked at her, clearly noticing the genuine concern in her features. He felt fatigue taking over, and suddenly it was so very cold. And there was pain, a throbbing ache inside him that he could not name nor place. He was just...hurting.

Logan felt softness press against him when she embraced him, hugging his waist and burying her face in his chest. She was shaking slightly, from the cold or from something else, but her strong hold on him did not gave away any sign of weakness. She was there, solid, warm, comforting. It drained all that poisonous wrath from his system.

"Stryker always said I was an animal." Logan thought out loud.

Medea loosened her grip on him to look at him properly. "Maybe you are. But animals are far less cruel than men."

Logan gazed at her gratefully. She really did have a way with words, and the emotional intelligence to understand what he needed to hear. She did not deny his feral nature, like many tried before. But she did manage to make him feel considerably better about it. Yes, men were definitely much crueler. Logan felt an annoying tingling in the back of mind.

"Where are you, Logan?" He could hear Jean inside his head.

"Leave me alone." He mentally growled at her, feeling her withdrawing from his thoughts.

By the irritation on Medea's face he assumed Jean tried to contact her as well. Medea sighed. "Are you well enough to go back?"

Logan was not sure, but it was too cold outside and he was starved. The thought of seeing people in the kitchen made him lose his appetite though. Medea guided him to his room, taking the long, but less used path. Fortunately, they did not run into anyone on their way. Medea left once he got to his room, and Logan went straight to the shower, scrubbing the dirt and the blood off him. The water was boiling hot, but he welcomed that scorching feeling because it held a promise of purity. He left the shower fresh and clean, but in the same morbid and turbulent mental state as before. He pulled on his training pants, and collapsed on the sofa, staring into the flames.

A soft knock on the door caught his attention. He was determined not to answer but when he heard her voice his resolve crumbled. "Open up, it's me."

With a huff, Logan got up and unlocked the door. Medea was standing with a tray of food, and a very visible blush once she noticed his state of undress. She thrust the tray in his direction, sharply turning her face sideways.

"I thought you'd be hungry." Medea said weakly. "And dressed." She added in mere whisper.

Logan let out a small chuckle. "Well, I'm both."

He took the tray from her hands, amused by her reaction. He was about to thank her, maybe even ask her to join him, but she spoke first. "I'm going back to work. If you need anything, just text me, OK?"

Logan nodded and Medea quickly turned away and disappeared. He sat down and ate his dinner, contemplating whether to text her or not. As much as he hated to admit it, he craved her company at that moment. There was something about her that balanced him. Seeing her so collected and calm, conquering her demons day by day, and exhibiting admirable mental strength was all he needed to pull himself together. He knew she had her breakdowns too. He could hear her cry when she thought he was not in his room. She probably had her weak moments in her lab too.

Logan snickered at the fact that the little brat that she was, she ended up taking care of him. He made a vow then, to heed her and to protect her. He put his phone down, deciding to spend the night alone. Medea was under a lot of pressure as it was, and wasting her time was not helping her situation. Three quarters of a whiskey bottle later, he fell asleep on the couch in a very awkward position.


	8. Chapter 8

**A\N: About Medea looking disturbingly young - the struggle is real. I wrote it because I face the exact same problem.  
** **I'm going on 27 and I get hit on by 15 year old boys, while guys my age don't even look my way.  
** **If you check out my profile picture, you can see for yourselves :)**

 **Anyway, a lot of people favorited/subscribed to this story. For Fuck's sake, prove you're not bots!**

 **Chapter 8:**

Logan looked at his students with mild satisfaction. Some of them were honestly nonredeemable, but a few were actually worth the time he put into training them. Rogue was still afraid of touching anyone, despite being provided special uniform to protect others from her deadly touch. Jubilee considered physical activity as an insult and he gave up on her pretty fast. But Colossus, utilizing his powerful mutation, made a huge progression as a fighter. And Kitty, despite her small frame, had a mean spin kick that could knock a grown man down if he underestimated her as a rival. Bobby had a lot of potential but he was too busy drooling over Rogue.

Overall, Logan found himself enjoying his life at school. When Beast came to visit, they would have epic sparring sessions, and beating the shit out of Scott came in a close second, in terms of having fun. The students stared at him with a mix of terror and worship, and the staff knew to keep a safe distance. When he was not hitting up on Jean, he did a phenomenal job of ignoring their existence. His only interactions were with Medea, and with the professor, trying to recover pieces of his lost memory.

He was having lunch outside in the lawns with Medea, and she was constantly giving him those curious glances. Logan took the last bite from his food and did his trademark eyebrow raising. "What?"

Medea seemed to struggle with phrasing her answer. "Why do you style your hair like this?"

"What?" Logan narrowed his eyes at her.

"You know," Medea grabbed her own hair, pulling it up like she had two pointy ears or horns. "The wolf style."

"I don't style it." Logan said dryly. "It's just the way it is."

"Bullshit. So your hair is gravity defying?" Medea argued. "It's part of your mutation?"

"Did you look in the mirror recently?" Logan retorted, pointing at her spiky hair.

"My hair is randomly messy, it could be a result of static electricity." Medea rejected his claim. "Yours is shaped like ears."

Logan sighed. "Touch it and see for yourself."

Medea considered the option from her seat in the other side of the picnic table. She put her fork down, and made her way to his side, seating on the table instead of the bench to have better access to his hair. She touched the pointy tip of the ear shaped hair with caution, as if it was going to bite her. Rearranging her position, she placed herself behind him, and ran her finger through his hair.

"Oh, it's soft." She said with wonder.

"Not something I usually hear from the ladies." Logan jested. But jokes aside, what she did made him shiver with pleasure. She did it again, playing with the hair on the left half of his head, in the process scraping his scalp gently from his nape to the top of his head. Logan did his best not to purr.

Convinced that he did not have any hair product holding his hair up, Medea moved into a new set of experiments where she tried to flattened down his mane by stroking it in the opposite direction. To Logan it felt just as good, and while he was a bit averse to being used as a test subject, this time he did not mind. After a few more minutes of trying to subdue his hair, Medea gave up. "OK, you win."

"I always win. But keep going, it feels nice." Logan said, lighting up a cigar, and leaning back onto her.

Medea chuckled and muttered something that sounded awfully like 'big puppy'. Logan ignored her provocation and took a relaxing drag from his cigar, while she continued priming his hair. The kids went back to class, since lunch time was over, and the lawns were quiet once again. It has been a long while since anyone took care of him in such a tender way and Medea's smooth and rhythmic caressing lolled him into a light doze. He heard her giggling after a while, and she tugged lightly on his hair in a way that was pleasing in a wholly different fashion, exciting him to the point where he considered stopping her. But she went back to lightly grazing his skull with her nimble fingers and he returned to his state of lax drowsiness.

"Get up, Logan." Medea shoved his shoulder lightly after what seemed like not enough time.

"Why?" Logan asked with his eyes still closed.

"Because I lost feeling in my legs." Medea pushed him off with a little more force, but not nearly enough to actually move him. "And I have to get back to work."

Logan straightened his posture, allowing her to jump off the table and stretch her legs. "Gods, you're heavy."

Logan smirked at her. "Well, you can blame Stryker for that."

Medea snorted. "The Adamantium in your body amounts to only third of your weight."

"How do you know that?" Logan was amused.

"I helped Jean make the calculations." Medea replied coolly.

"You two surely spend a lot of time admiring my body." Logan wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"Ugh!" Medea groaned. "You're so full of shit I can't see how they managed to insert the Adamantium."

It stung but it was a decent joke, and Logan found himself smiling at the blond. She had that crazy spark in her eyes when they verbally sparred that actually encouraged him to rile her up. "I'm going to the lab. See you at dinner." Medea waved at him, before leaving.

Properly fed, well rested and in elevated spirits he went to the gym. He did his usual workout of weights and cardio, with another hour of boxing drills, which usually meant the professor had to order new punching bags. While his mutation definitely helped a lot with his physique, the chiseled look was a result of strict training routine and calculated diet. His drinking and smoking were his sinful pleasures, which he allowed himself to indulge in. This period he spent in the school enabled him to exercise daily and choose his food wisely, and he honestly could not remember being in a better shape. But then, there were still huge gaps in his memory, despite his regular sessions with the professor.

Logan took his time in the shower, washing off the sweat and rinsing his hair. His thought wandered to Medea and how amazing her fingers felt earlier when she played with his hair, and how good they might feel elsewhere. Her hands were incredibly small, almost childlike. And considering he was naturally well-endowed, he would looked absolutely huge in her tiny hands. Logan froze, his hands still shampooing his hair.

He was rock hard, in the shower, having very sleazy thoughts about Medea. No, no, no. Logan washed the shampoo off his hair, and looked at his cock with disapproval. His body was betraying him and he was very unsatisfied with it. Logan warped his hand around his stiff member, stroking it leisurely while repeating a mantra in his mind.

Think of Jean. Think of Jean. Think of that fabulous ass in tight leather. How her heavy tits will feel in your palms. How you're going to make her scream.

Logan sped up the pace, moaning as he brushed that sensitive spot at the underside of his shaft. He closed his eyes, focusing on the pleasure building in his lower regions. Instead of Jean's honey colored eyes looking at him seductively, what popped into his mind were vibrant green eyes, playfully challenging him. Logan came hard, shaking as he reached the peak, but feeling utterly disgusted with himself. He wiped the remains of his orgasm, and left the shower, drying himself and pulling on his dark jeans. He grabbed a black t-shirt, that was just tight enough to compliment his muscles, but not enough to look tacky and made his way to the dining hall. Logan walked deliberately slow, slightly unnerved by seeing Medea. Thank god she was not a Telepath.

Most of the staff was already there by the time he reached the hall, and he spotted Medea sitting between Jean and Storm. Which was odd, because she always reserved a seat for him. Slightly thankful that she did not save him a spot, Logan took a seat by Storm, who stole glances at him, doing her best not to laugh. Eventually she failed, and burst out laughing in a fit of hysterics, followed by Jean, Scott and the rest of the staff, with the exception of Medea who looked moderately guilty.

"OK, spill it." Logan demanded from Storm.

She held her hand, gesturing him to wait and pulled out her phone. A second later he received a text message. He opened it to see a picture of him, from earlier today, dozing off in the lawns while Medea smiles triumphantly behind him, glowing with pride at her handy work. Which was Logan's hair styled into many tiny braids and ponytails held in colorful ribbons and pins. Logan's expression darkened dramatically as he jumped to his feet, towering over Medea.

"You treacherous sneak!" He boomed at her.

Medea cowered under his words, and Storm stood up to separate them. "It was just a little prank, Logan. No harm done."

"Let's see how you like it when someone abuses your trust to turn you into a joke." Logan spat.

Jean intervened. "You manage to look hot even with ribbons in your hair. It takes a real man to pull this look, Logan." She placed her hand on his forearm, giving him a very dirty smile.

Scott, who heard the exchange, was turning a bright red color. Somewhat pleased with the turn of events, Logan returned to his seat, and started eating, while pointedly ignoring Medea. She was completely out of line. The tension around the table was impossible to miss, and not long after Medea excused herself and left. He caught her half way to her lab, fully intending to give her a piece of his mind.

"Do you think, that because I hate you less than the others, you can get away with everything?" Logan said harshly, his expression hard and hostile.

Medea seemed to physically shrink in front of his eyes. Her shoulder were hunched, head hanging low and eyes cast down to her shoes. It appeared like she was trying to disappear, to escape his scorching glare. "I'm sorry, Logan. I never intended to hurt your feelings. What I did was foolish, and I assure you I'll never repeat it."

He expected some sort of argument, since everyone at the table found it funny and harmless. But seeing her so dejected and remorseful, literally knocked the wind out of his sails. There was no point in condemning her if she was already so penitent and seeing her so sad was disheartening. Logan never imagined being cross with her would have such a colossal effect.

"I really like you, Logan." Medea said softly, lifting her eyes to meet his. Logan was slightly taken aback by how vulnerable she looked. "I hope that one day, I won't deserve your hatred anymore." And with that, she turned around and began walking away.

No, no, no, he was not going to let it end like this. In a few long strides he closed the distance between them, grabbing her hand and forcing her to face him. "You know I don't hate you, right?"

Medea shrugged, moist gathering in the corners of her eyes. "Come here, you little brat." Logan sighed, pulling Medea into a hug, ruffling her hair in the process. She instantly wrapped her arms around his waist, mumbling apologies to his chest.

"It's OK." Logan assured her, petting her head. Her hair was impossibly soft between his fingers. "And even if I do get mad at you occasionally, I don't hate you. Far from it." He said softly. "You're the main reason I come back here."

Oh. Logan did not mean to say it out loud, even if it was true. But the beans were spilled and Medea reacted by pressing even closer to him, which was totally fine by him. He was beginning to come to terms with the fact that she felt very good in his arms.


	9. Chapter 9

**A\N: For those who follow/favorite and don't comment - bad readers, bad!  
Thank you to the two siants who actually review this story.**

 **Chapter 9: Smells like Teen Spirit and Whiskey**

Medea heard a knock on her door for the hundredth time that day. So what if she skipped all her meals, did not answer anyone's phone calls, and locked herself in her room? She was entitled to have at least one day a year of solemn introversion. Medea ignored it and continued sniffing quietly, hugging her blanket and her stuffed animal. The next knock was far more aggressive than the first.

"Open up, or I'm breaking the fucking door." Logan growled from the other side of the door.

"Don't." Medea said flatly and got up from the couch, taking the blanket and the toy with her.

She unlocked the door, not bothering to open it or wait for Logan to enter, and shuffled back to the couch. She rearranged herself, cocooned in blankets, and stared pointedly at the wall in front of her.

"Everyone is worried about you." Logan said, sounding almost angry.

"I'm fine." Medea dismissed him. "I want to be alone."

"What's wrong?" He took another step towards her.

"Nothing. Logan, please leave." Medea said tiredly.

"Sure, after you tell me what's wrong." Logan insisted. "You look like shit."

Oh, she was aware. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she had tear marks on her puffy, red cheeks. Her hair looked dead and her nose was pink from wiping the snot. She was a piece of work. "I know."

Logan sighed, and after a short inner debate, took a seat on the couch next to her. "Wanna tell me what happened?"

Not particularly, but Medea knew that he was just as stubborn as her. "It's been a year."

From the corner of her eye, she could see a flash of comprehension in his eyes. "A year already?" He murmured.

"Yeah..." Medea whispered.

"I didn't realize." Logan said, sounding almost apologetic. His gaze focused on her stuffed animal. "What is this tattered gray rag?" He asked with visible disgust.

"It's my duck." Medea said, daring him with her glare to badmouth her favorite toy.

Logan rolled his eyes. "Put that thing down and come here." Logan gestured her with his hand to come closer.

Medea considered the offer. As much as she loved her duck, Logan seemed as the more attractive option. She scooted closer to him, sitting close but not touching, and continued to sulk and stare forward. She felt like she was going to vomit, but her stomach was achingly empty. So was her heart.

In a swift movement, Logan grabbed her by the waist and pulled her, blankets and all, onto his lap. Medea shrieked in surprise, finding herself in the air momentarily, and then closer to Logan than she had ever been. He was wearing a black wife-beater, and when she rested her head against him, she could feel the soft hair of his chest tickling her face. He smelled nice too.

"We're both in a better place now." Logan said into her hair. "Better than last year."

"That was...everything I lived for." Medea said quietly. "And now that I did it, I don't know what to do with myself anymore. I don't know who I am."

"What about your job here?" Logan inquired. "It doesn't give you a sense of purpose?"

Medea shook her head. "It's not the same. I try, I bury myself in work so I won't have to think about anything else." Medea confessed. "But when I'm alone with my thoughts, just before I go to sleep...it all comes back to me. "

"Why is it so bad today?" Logan asked softly.

"I'm tired of the guilt, of hating myself, of being so lonely. Or feeling like I deserve to be lonely. Deserve to suffer." Medea said in a shaky voice. "And today, for the first time I thought that...I don't know if I can go through another year like this."

Logan pulled her back by the shoulder, looking her dead in the eye. His grip on her was almost painful. "Don't you ever say it again." Logan warned her, his expression severe. "Don't even dare to think about it."

"There's nothing worth fighting for anymore." Medea argued in a hollow voice.

"Don't you have people here, that you care about?" Logan asked her, searching her eyes for something.

"You do, too. But you still leave." Medea said with a weak smile.

Logan shook his head. "But I come back."

Medea could not argue with that. He did come back every time. And where she wanted to go, well...there was no coming back from there. "I'm so tired. I want to sleep without nightmares. I want to wake up without tears, and in between the two, live without pangs of conscience."

"I don't think it will ever go away." Logan admitted sadly. "But you're not alone in this. Not unless you want to."

Medea smiled softly at him, carefully wrapping her arms around his neck. Logan seemed at ease with their closeness, with one hand at her lower back, and the other on her upper thigh, although there were about four layers of blankets and clothing separating them. She leaned in and placed a shy kiss on his cheek, causing him to chuckle and her to blush. She rested her head back against his chest, enjoying the feeling of being cradled in his arms. One of her hands traveled from his nape into his hair, grazing his scalp lightly. Medea played with his hair mindlessly, feeling his embrace tighten and his humming vibrating in his chest.

"You should probably stop that." Logan said in a husky voice. "Especially when you're sitting on my lap."

"W-what?" Medea was confused.

"Your priming. I'm enjoying it far too much." Logan said suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows.

Medea's mouth formed a silent 'O', and she immediately tried to pull her hands back to her lap, her face red with embarrassment. Logan was quicker than her, and caught her hands, bringing them back to wrap around his neck. "It feels good when you simply run your fingers through. Just mind the tugging. It's an absolute turn on for me." Logan gave her a wicked smile.

Medea thought that she really would not mind if he jumped her bones that very moment, despite how awful she was feeling. She was morbid and honestly considered suicide, and dying after fucking Logan seemed much more acceptable. It would be a shame to die without ever experiencing that. But Logan was into Jean, and Medea pushed that thought to the back of her head. She nodded shyly at Logan, and leaned back against him, cautiously stroking his hair. He was warm, and comforting and so solid, and she felt like he was grounding her when she was feeling the most unbalanced. She was genuinely astonished by his acceptance and his patience, as he never struck her as the type to comfort wiping females. But there he was.

* * *

"So there's a local pub not far away from here." Logan said casually, leaning against the frame of her door. "Want to take our drinking problem out?"

Medea considered the offer, tugging at her oversize trainers. "I don't really have "out" clothes."

Logan raised one teasing eyebrow. "Want me to call Storm? She'll sort you out."

"No! Absolutely not!" Medea held her hands up defensively. "I'll manage. I'll meet you in the garage in 15?"

"That's hardly enough time to doll up." Logan mentioned.

"The occasion hardly requires dolling up." Medea quipped, closing the door in his face.

Improvising, Medea pulled on the tight black pants that were part of the X-Men field dress, grabbed her army boots, and combing it with an old Slayer shirt that was actually Goose's. Medea gave up on trying to style her hair a long time ago, and usually it was sticking in random directions creating a halo around her head. When it was not messy enough, Logan made sure to "ruffle her feathers". Prick. She realized that moment that she did not own any sort of makeup products and settled for a little pink-colored lip balm Jean gave her for her chapped lips. Medea put on the worn out leather jacket Storm forced her to buy at some second hand sale, and made her way to the garage.

Logan was leaning against his motorcycle, with his signature white wife-beater and his dark brown leather jacket. Medea internally signed at how sinfully attractive he was. Logan gave her the elevator look as she approached him.

"Were you aiming for the teenage groupie look?" Logan grinned.

"I wanted to fit your aging rock star swag." Medea retorted with sass.

"I get to sign your tits?" Logan jested, causing Medea to feel a rush of excitement.

"Only if you let me call you 'Daddy'." Medea bit her lower lip, marveling at her own brazenness.

Logan averted his gaze for the slightest moment, and in the low light of the garage Medea could not tell if the blush that crept above his beard was a trick of shadows or her imagination. He threw his leg over the seat and started the motorcycle. Medea took hesitating steps towards him.

Logan turned his head to look at her. "You need help to get up?"

No, Medea knew perfectly well how to mount a motorcycle. It was not her motor skills that held her back. It was the daunting realization of how physically close to Logan she would have to be. And in a rather compromising position too. God dammit, this was going to fuel her forbidden fantasies. But Medea was trained to react quickly and naturally when stressed, so she casually placed her hands on Logan's shoulders, and used them as leverage to swing herself up.

"Well, I guess you don't." Logan muttered. "Hold on."

Medea, familiar with Logan's reckless driving style, did just that. She locked her hands around his waist, pressing herself against his back to shield herself from the wind. While Logan's riding was constantly reminding her how fleeting life was, she still found herself enjoying it way too much. Logan smelled delicious. A mix of tobacco, leather and spicy cologne that screamed masculinity and put her at risk of drooling on his jacket. She also never imagined abs can be so hard and defined, with his thin wife-beater which did little to conceal the muscles underneath. Medea gloomily pondered that there were definitely worse ways to die than holding onto a fine man like Logan.

Medea did not linger once Logan stopped the motorcycle, she jumped off immediately, so her pleasure would not be completely obvious. Logan gave her an encouraging smile, pleased that she was managing by herself. Medea was independent and self-sufficient and she knew it was one quality Logan appreciated about her. As far as she could tell Logan hated the thought of someone depending on him, as the responsibility would limit his freedom. And he guarded his freedom religiously.

They entered a small, crowded pub, with dim yellow lighting, and 70's rock music. Logan took her by the hand, and led her through the crowd, locating two empty stools at the other side of the bar. Logan ordered both of them whiskey, and even with the noises of chattering and music, Medea could hear his leg tapping to the beat.

They had to lean in really close to talk, and she could swear she felt his beard grazing her cheek once. The whiskey was surprising good, but Medea suspected the warm fuzzy feeling was mostly caused by inhaling too much of Logan's scent. She scanned the crowd with her eyes,when a blond young man held her gaze. He slightly raised his glass, and Medea quickly averted her gaze.

"He's been checking you out since we got here." Logan informed her, his hot breath hitting her ear.

Medea felt herself blushing. "I'm not into blonds."

"Well, he's making his way here." Logan said dryly, narrowing his eyes.

Medea palmed her face. "You' gotta be kidding me..."

A moment later Medea felt a tap on her shoulder, and reluctantly turned to face the blond. He had chiseled face and athletic build and he was wearing a gray and blue flannel shirt. He could have been the jockey version of Kurt Cobain. "I haven't seen you here before." He spoke loudly over the noise.

"She's not interested, bub." Medea realized Logan had turned around as well, and was giving the younger man his best glower.

"Aren't you a bit old for her, grampa?" The blond tilted his head slightly, mocking.

Medea placed her hand on Logan's thigh, applying sufficient amount of pressure to actually get his attention, hopefully preventing him from tearing the lad apart. Logan exhaled slowly, muscles tense under her fingers.

"Look, kid, If I tried real hard, I could be your mom." Medea drawled.

The blond snorted. "You're barely legal."

Medea pulled out her driving license, presenting him with her birth date. The lad stared at her with puzzlement for fraction of second, before recovering quickly. "You're still hot. I don't mind."

Logan lost his patient. "But I do. Beat it bub, or I'll beat the teen spirit out of you."

The blond seemed to finally get the message, and backed away. Medea raised her glass and clinked it with his. "You scored plenty of points for that Nirvana joke."

Logan huffed. "Too old for you...pfff."

"You know what they say, age is just a number. Although in your case, it's a rather big, three digit number..." Medea laughed. "But I'd say we bridge over our century long age gap pretty well." Medea playfully bumped her shoulder into his.

Logan watched at her softly. Which was strange, since soft was hardly sometime she associated with Logan. He had a smile in his brown eyes, and they felt just like whiskey – warm and intoxicating, with the unavoidable bitterness. Logan fondly brushed his knuckles against her cheek. "Yeah, I guess you're alright, kid."

Medea returned a tender gaze, mentally focusing on subduing the blush that threatened to color her face. She downed her shot to ease her nerves and ordered another one. Logan and her drank a few more in relative silence, and when the ruckus quieted down and the crowd lessened, they paid for their drinks and headed out.

Medea was not sure if it was the alcohol kicking in, or the drive back was actually longer. But she made sure to enjoy every second of being pressed against Logan, absorbing his heat, his scent, and the comfort that his closeness provided her. Mounting off the bike, Medea noticed her motions were still fluid and coordinated, accepting the fact that whatever she was feeling has little to do with the alcohol in her system.

Logan was observing her as they made they way to their rooms. He always did it after they drank. "I'm still impressed by your endurance." Logan sent her a lopsided grin.

"Would you consider it a superpower?" Medea joked.

"Sure. You can be Booze Girl or Super Liver." Logan suggested laughingly.

"I was thinking more along the lines of Alcoholic Teenage Warhead." Medea replied.

That earned her a hearty laugh from Logan. "Catchy."

They reached their floor when Logan added. "You do realize your condition is...strange. Males twice your weight would be choking on their vomit by now, if they drank as much as you just did." He paused for a moment, weighing his words. "Maybe you should let Jean have a look at you."

"I'm tragically normal, Logan." Medea said flatly. "My alcohol resistance is not a symptom of me being a mutant. Sometimes I think you wish I wasn't human. But I am."

Logan shifted uncomfortably. "I don't. It makes no difference to me what you are."

"Good. I was scared you'd ditch me for a cool mutant drinking buddy." Medea jested, trying to lightened the mood.

"You have absolutely no competition to fear of." Logan assured, punching her shoulder lightly. "We should do it again."

"Yeah, it was ...entertaining." Medea agreed. "I was positive you were going to tear that boy apart."

"I was fully intending to." Logan groaned. "But you sure know how to distract a man."

"Huh?" Medea was puzzled.

"Nevermind." Logan shoved his hands into his pocket. "Get some sleep, kid."

"Night." Medea said with a smile, before disappearing into her quarters.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Thanks again for all of you who comment.**

 **Chapter 10:**

Logan sprinted into the jet, Storm already sliding into the pilot's seat and Jean and Scott covering his back, since he was carrying Medea. He put her down once they were in, and the moment the aircraft took off and they were out of danger, Logan exploded. "What the fuck were you thinking?!"

"The door was stuck! Someone, " Medea paused, giving him an accusing stare, "Fucked up the door hinges during the fighting and it wouldn't budge!"

"Then you should have called for help!" Logan yelled at her, raging at her recklessness.

"I did!" Medea argued. "But you were...occupied."

"You should have stayed there until we were done." Logan countered.

"But I was done. There was no point in fighting afterwards!" Medea crossed her hands on her chest.

"The point was to keep you safe." Logan growled, angry beyond reason, towering over her and poking her chest for emphasis.

Medea slapped his hand away. "Look, the objective of the mission was accomplished. We're all unharmed. Chill."

Logan hated when people told him to relax. "You're vulnerable. You're powerless, defenseless. Get it through your thick skull, kid!"

Medea sneered at him. "I know I'm just a lowly human. But I survived 5 years in the front, occasionally behind the enemy lines. Stop treating me like I'm some irresponsible child!"

"But you are!" Logan roared. "Who the fuck crawls in a fucking duct?"

"Someone who had done it before." Medea drawled, narrowing her eyes at him. "There are some advantages to being petite."

"Yeah, it makes a 10 feet fall seem much worse." Logan ridiculed her with a hurtful jeer.

"I slipped. I'm good." Medea defended her very ungraceful landing from the air conditioning slot.

"Jean would be the judge of that." Logan said harshly. "You could barely stand."

"Well, I'm standing now." Medea quipped. "Stop patronizing me, Logan."

Ok, she officially drove him up the wall. "Fine, get yourself killed. I'm not taking any bullets for you."

Medea became red in the face. "You didn't take any bullets for me! When I fell down they were all out already! And I got at least 3 of them!"

"Shooting them from the ceiling was the epitome of idiocy." Logan rebuked her. "You were a sitting duck stuck up there."

Medea let out a degrading chuckle. "Those ducts were made out of galvanized steel. It's more bulletproof than you are."

"Your orders were to stay inside until it's safe." Logan barked.

Medea snorted. "That's rich, coming from you! You disobey orders on the regular!"

"I know what I'm doing!" Logan boomed at her.

They were at each others faces, screaming and accusing and cursing, and Logan did not even know why he was so mad, but he just was, and he had to tell her that she needed to be more careful. But his concern somehow translated to aggression and insults and he saw the moist covering Medea's eyes but he could not stop himself from going at her. Until Jean broke them apart, dragging him to one corner of the aircraft, while Scott pulled Medea to the opposite side. Logan did not hear even one word Jean told him, he was just angry and so unbelievably anxious. How it all went down the drain in a matter of hours.

In the late afternoon Medea strolled into the aircraft for a briefing, wearing the X-men catsuit for the first time and leaving him out of breath. He mounted the jet moments earlier, ogling Jean as per usual, with the added bonus of pissing off Scott. Logan knew Medea's scent by heart, so he did not have to take his eyes off Jean to know Medea was near. He heard her soft footsteps when she mounted the aircraft and he averted his eyes to her to greet her with a grin. He had not seen her in a few days, with her extensive work hours and her weird sleeping cycle. There was a smoking hot blonde babe in X-men uniform where he expected Medea to be, and Logan was momentarily wondering why nobody informed him they have a new teammate. But he knew that spiky blond hair, and those green eyes that were now cast to the floor in embarrassment, with pink blush on her cheeks to match.

Logan was staring shamelessly because what he was looking at just did not register. Where was she hiding those boobs all the time? They were perky and ample in size and seem to be in perfect proportions to her slim waist. She had a slight curve to her hips, and when she turned around to the control board Logan got a view of an A class ass. He always imagined her to be flat and straight as a stick beneath all those layers, but boy was he off track completely.

Since it was her first mission, Storm mentioned they should come up with a code name for her. But Medea informed them she already had one: Owl. It made perfect sense to him – Medea was a solitary creature, nocturnal, more of an observer than an active participant. She also had freakishly big eyes and her hair was feather-like. He liked that name.

And now this. Medea was supposed to do her technological witchcraft while they covered her up, and to be completely honest they did very well, but he was still so fucking pissed at her. Medea was wrong, her judgment was flawed, she put herself at risk unnecessarily and she was not willing to admit it. She could wear that hurtful expression all she wanted, he was not backing down on this one.

When they reached the mansion Logan was the first to jump out of the jet, walking straight to his room. He was too furious to attend his classes the day afterwards, and when he finally showed up for combat training, he was extra hard on his students. Logan pointedly ignored Medea on meals, and when the weekend came he went to the pub alone. Medea did not approach him, and though he had wanted to talk to her, his pride prevented him from folding. When he was drinking alone on the following weekend, he was seriously considering packing his shit and going to Canada.

* * *

Medea made her way to the professor's office. She was about to reach for the door when it swung open and a girl came out running, her face glistening with tears, wailing something that sounded like "But why does he have to be so mean?"

Medea walked inside, just as the professor was rubbing his temples, looking tired. Scott was leaning on the wall behind him, and Storm was sitting at a chair by his desk. Medea took a seat beside Storm, waiting for the professor to speak but he seemed deeply conflicted.

"You wanted to see me?" Medea initiated the conversation.

The professor sighed. "Yes, I have a personal favor to ask of you."

Medea looked at him expectantly.

"I need you to make peace with Logan." The professor presented his request.

"What?" Medea shook her head. "He's the one who started shouting at me like a madman."

The professor gave her a weary smile. "I need you to be the mature one."

"He's like a century older than me." Medea drawled.

"He's been absolutely unbearable since your fight." Storm intervened. "He makes students cry in every class and he is utterly impossible to work with."

Medea shrugged, unimpressed. So Logan was insufferable, big deal. It was not far from his normal self.

"Look, if he doesn't pull his shit together, he will get sucked." Scott said flatly. "So if you want him to stick around, do something about it."

Medea looked at the professor with disbelief. He would actually kick Logan out for having a few bad days?

"I'm afraid I'll have to." The professor answered her silent question. "My first concern is for my students. They are young, inexperienced, vulnerable. Logan's outbursts made some of them consider leaving the school, and while Logan will survive on his own out there, they won't."

Medea felt the lump at her throat. She swallowed hard, trying to process his words. She was very angry with Logan in the beginning, and then it translated to sadness, mourning on their lost friendship. She spent the last few days coming to terms with it, accepting that whatever it was between her and Logan, it was over. No more drinking together, no more engaging conversations and comforting hugs and that sense of belonging she had when she was with him. Medea did not even allow herself her guilty fantasies in the shower, or sweet thoughts about cuddling with him just before she fell asleep. She diligently worked on hardening herself again, on putting her walls back up.

Yes, she was disappointed in him for lashing out at her. And more so for not apologizing. Or even seeking her out to confront her about it. He just...gave up on her. Ignored her. Cast her away. Medea truly thought he cared for her, that their friendship meant something to him, but reality was harsh and he clearly did not. And yet, she did not want him to leave. She was not ready to handle the finality of him leaving. Medea squared her shoulders.

"Any idea where he is?" Medea asked.

Scott snorted. "In the forest at the back. He was on his third bottle of whiskey, when I passed by. He should probably still be there."

Taking a deep breath, Medea stood up and made her way outside. She had no idea what she was going to tell him, or how he was going to react. But she had an ominous feeling she had to do it now, or it will be too late. She found him in the outskirts of the forest, sitting on a bench with a whiskey bottle in his hand. She could tell by the slight tension in his shoulders he noticed her presence. He did not turn to look at her, and she made her way to the front of the bench still very clueless as to how to handle the situation.

He gave her a blank stare and took another swig from the bottle. He was all rough edges and sharp contours and hardness, and Medea could see why students were afraid of him. Her mind was as blank as his stare and she could not come up with anything to say, and it was completely obvious he was going to ignore her. It has been an awful two weeks without him and now he was right there but so far away and Medea felt so drained and his harsh treatment was physically hurting her. But her tongue was tied and she realize she was shaking, and she could not stop it.

Logan finally averted his gaze back to her. "What do you want, kid?" His tone was flat and impatient.

Medea tried to find solace in the fact that he called her 'kid' and not 'bub', hoping that he still had a soft spot for her. "I don't want to fight anymore." Medea found herself whispering and then when Logan did not respond she half collapsed half threw herself at him, hugging him with all she had.

He was motionless and stiff for a long moment before she saw him put down the bottle, and then his arms wrapped around her, pressing her against his chest. Medea was clinging into his shirt with force that could tear holes into it, and her grip on him might have been painful to anyone else. She was shaking even more now, and it felt like a dam broke inside of her, and all those things she bottled up were flowing freely out.

"Don't...don't cry." Logan murmured above her, and only when he mentioned it she realized she was sobbing her heart out.

"I'm sorry." Logan whispered, only making Medea cry harder. "I was worried...that you were going to get hurt. Just the thought makes my claws itch. I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

Medea buried her head in his neck. "I'm sorry for being so nasty."

Logan sighed. "I had it coming." He admitted.

"I'm still sorry." Medea said softly. "I said some awful things to you."

"You definitely know how to push my buttons. I have been pissed for two weeks straight." Logan agreed. "I was going to leave for Canada tonight."

Medea pulled away slightly, searching his face. "You're not going." She said more than asked.

Logan regarded her silently, his expression not betraying anything. "Do you want me to stay?"

"Yes." Medea replied without hesitating.

Logan pushed a stray hair behind her ear. "Then I'll stay, Owl." He said affectionately.

Medea blushed terribly at his use of her code name. It sounded so endearing when he said it. She buried her face back in his chest to hide her emotions, taking in his scent, heavily clouded by the alcohol. He adjusted his arms around her, holding her securely, and rubbing circles on her lower back. "Were your team mates also named after animals?" He inquired.

Medea nodded instinctively, which resulted in her rubbing her cheek against his chest. "Yeah. Goose, Rabbit, Sloth and Peacock."

"They all sound pretty harmless." Logan remarked. "You were the only predator in the group."

Medea grinned cheekily at him. "Makes sense I'll befriend a Wolverine."

Logan chuckled and that sound made Medea's chest swell with happiness. She truly missed him. She raised her hand to his face, lightly touching his cheek while taking in his features. Medea focused on each and every detail, from the soft light in his hazel eyes to the smile tugging at his chapped lips, to the ticklish sideburns and his wild mane. She tried so hard to forget his handsome features just an hour ago.

Medea laughed at herself for thinking she could forget him. She fought the urge to kiss him, tempted by those expressive lips, finding herself leaning towards him against her better judgment. Medea mustered her self control, while gauging his reaction – he was watching her as she closed the distance between them but did nothing to stop her. Her logical part won, and she tilted her head slightly, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. She could feel his smile widen under her lips, and his grip on her tightened considerably. So she was not the only one who missed their companionship. Medea let him coddle her, emotionally fatigue and hungry for comfort, his warmth and gentles hands lulling her to sleep.

 **I felt like they were getting along too well.  
Relationship are measured, in my eyes, in the ability to recover from screaming your hearts at each other. **


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Sorry for not updating, I was on vacation.  
I believe it is worth the wait because I present you - SMUT!**

 **Chapter 11:**

Logan walked to Medea's room. He had a meeting with the professor and Scott and the later was driving him up the wall. He needed a drink to calm his nerves. He usually knocked on her door before entering, but he was too deep in his murderous thoughts about Scott, so he just barged in. The facial recognition system was now installed in all the dormitories, and you can program it to allow certain people in. Logan knew he and Jean were permitted into Medea's quarters. Jean, in case Medea was having a really bad seizure, and him in case he wanted a drink.

Logan should have knocked, but he was very glad he did not. Medea was making her way from her bedroom to her shower, pulling off layers of clothing as she walked, leaving them scattered around. He swallowed hard as she removed her undershirt, leaving her in small black panties and a matching bra. OK, so he knew she had breasts, he felt them soft against his chest every time he held her close. And they were nicely outlined by her uniform but the leather catsuit was generally flattering to the female figure. And now, they were right there in front of him, hardly covered by the skimpy lace bra, and damn they were perfect. Perky and just the perfect size to fit Medea's proportions.

"Logan!" Medea screeched at him, making a run for the bathroom. "Get the fuck out!"

Logan shook his head lightly, trying to clear his head. Medea was glaring at him, her body hidden behind the bathroom door. "You wanna go out for a drink?" Logan recovered.

Medea narrowed her eyes at him. "I definitely need a drink after that."

"It wasn't so bad." Logan chuckled.

"Your approval means a lot to me." Medea drawled. "I'll meet you in the garage in 20?"

Logan considered it. 20 minutes sounded good. His jeans were suddenly feeling rather tight, although they were loose in form. He definitely needed some time to cool off. Logan headed to the garage, mentally preparing himself for tonight. Yes, those motorbike rides became pretty hard for him lately, because having her holding him like that was filling his head with dirty thoughts about how she would hold onto him in a different situation. But he enjoyed her closeness much more than he was tortured by it. Until now. Tonight was going to be hell.

Fuck, her stomach was toned and her ass looked firm, and he was arrogant enough to take some credit on that, their training definitely paid off. She was so amazingly pale, and he was dying to taint her pure skin with bite marks. He knew Medea liked him, she told him so, but she never did give away any sign of interest that was sexual or romantic. When Medea was looking at him it lacked the heat mixed with guilt that Jean had in her eyes when she was checking him out discretely. And while Logan caught Jean glancing at him quite often, Medea just gave him her full attention, in a casual way that made him feel important, but not desired. Logan knew she was very good at masking her feelings, and he wondered if maybe, she was attracted to him as much as he was attracted to her.

His train of thoughts was interrupted when the motorcycle swayed slightly. He was so invested in his speculation that he did not notice her approaching, and he suddenly he felt her against his back, sneaking her hands beneath his armpits to wrap around his torso. Logan gathered himself, revved up the bike, and sped away to their local pub.

Logan got a look at her only when they dismounted by the pub entrance. Had he seen her in the garage, he would have sent her to change. Her outfit was not revealing, it was never Medea's style. But under her leather jacket she wore a tight white wife-beater, that was thin enough to reveal her red bra. Logan groaned inwardly, was she doing it on purpose? Knowing her, she probably did not, and it was even more frustrating to him.

Logan focused on drinking the pub dry, and glaring daggers at all the males who eyed Medea, doing his best not to look at her modest cleavage. "You're definitely on the roll today. What got you so worked up?" Medea inquired.

Your amazing tits, Logan thought bitterly. "Had a meeting with the professor. And Scott. One day I will rip his throat and relish in doing so."

"You'll get my full support." Medea flashed him a smile, clinking their glasses.

Logan returned a wolfish grin. "You'll go into hiding with me?"

"Depends where you're going." Medea considered it. "Your cabin in the mountains sounds tempting."

Logan snickered. "I'll take you there, if you want. You don't have to wait until I kill Scott."

"I thought it was your secret sanctuary of sullen solitude and sulking." Medea teased him in a sing-song voice.

Logan paused for a moment, honestly surprised that he offered her to join him. It just came out of his mouth, and he realized that it reflected how he felt. "We both know we can be in the same space together but completely apart." Logan referred to their shared time in the lab, where she was working and he was reading. "And in the worst case, I'll kick you out to be eaten by the bears." He added with a wink.

"You have bears running around there? Big ones?" Medea asked with concern.

Logan nodded. "Don't worry. They don't eat scrawny little kids. Not enough meat." He needled her.

Medea elbowed him hard. It was not very effective on him but she did get stronger. He ruffled her hair to spite, causing her to glare at him with narrowed eyes. Logan was somewhat reassured and solaced that he could still poke fun at her, and tease her in a innocent, friendly way. Medea spoke to him in a deeper, far more substantial way than just the base desires of his inner animal.

During his first year in the school, while he was fixated on Jean, sex was all he could think about when she was around. Every thing he did, every word he said, was meant to lead to that one result. There was no casual conversations between them, no friendly chatter or chummy hangouts. And for a moment, he was afraid the same would happen with Medea. That their interactions would be limited to his beast's urge to mate. But he could still mock her, he could still call her kid, and taunt her about her looks without worrying if it interferes with his chances of bedding her. Because their banter and the profound content of their conversations, that lied the foundation to their tenacious companionship, it really mattered to him.

Once they were back on the motorcycle heading home, all those noble thoughts escaped his mind. He was a male, and he had an attractive female pressed against him, so it was pretty hard keeping his thoughts platonic. Considering he behaved himself and managed to have a good time with her, he could indulge in those harmless fantasies. Logan allowed himself to check her out while they walked to their rooms.

"Don't you have someone?" He found himself asking. He was definitely testing the limits of that latitude he extended to himself.

"Nope." Medea replied.

"How come? You're pretty hot." Logan remarked in a casual way, playing it cool.

Medea stopped by her door, letting out an embittered exhale. "Well, it makes the guys stay around for a night or two. But my less attractive traits scares them away eventually."

She seemed a bit defeated and insecure and he really hated that look on her. This institute was surely full of blind fools. Logan closed the distance between them, placing his palms flat against her door, caging her in between his arms. He bent down so his lips hovered above hers. "I'm pretty hard to scare."

Slowly, Logan closed the gap and kissed her. Just a peck, to gauge her reaction, and then when she did not try to gouge his eyes out, he dove in again. It was rougher, much more assertive and when Medea kissed back it became downright intense. Medea pulled away a moment later.

"You'll have to spend the night and then we shall see how easily you're frightened." Medea said shyly, her eyes cast down and her cheeks burning red.

Logan was momentarily astounded by her boldness. "Challenge accepted." He grinned, pushing her door open, and backing her into her room. The second they were in, he kicked the door shut and pushed her against it, and kissed her senseless. His hands instantly went for her waist, while her arms locked around his neck and he pressed his body into hers letting her feel every inch of him. Medea was gradually shedding her shy and demure demeanor, catching his lower lip between her teeth and nibbling at it gently, and then less so, while looking him in the eye with a wicked glint.

Logan's only coherent thought was getting them into her bedroom, and when she tugged on his hair during a heated kiss, his fingers dug into her bum, picking her up and carrying her to the bed. He placed her on it, and immediately pounced on her, sinking his teeth into the exposed skin where her neck met her shoulder. Medea moaned, dragging her finger down his back, and when she dragged them back up, she lifted his shirt in the process. Logan allowed her to take off his shirt, and waited a moment as she examined his torso, tracing his pecks and abs with gentle fingers.

Deciding she had enough time to enjoy the view, he tore the offensive white garment off her, revealing her red bra. Reaching behind her he unclasped it, and Medea shrugged off the stripes, removing it. Now it was his turn to appreciate the view. Her breasts were somehow more amazing than he dared to imagine, from the perfectly round curve of the underside to the pinkish, small nipples. Logan bent down, taking one erect nipple into his mouth while he palmed the other breast. It was a perfect fit in his hand, soft but not saggy and with flawlessly smooth skin that begged him to mark it.

Medea arched into his touch, pressing her pelvis to his, and her hands instantly grabbed his hair, encouraging him while he teased her breasts. She was letting out cute little moans and gasps and Logan was so hard it was painful. She probably read his mind as one of her hands traveled down his torso, to the hem of his jeans, and with impressive agility released him from his strains. Medea let out a surprised squeak when her hand brushed his rigid cock – Logan usually went commando.

Logan returned his attention to her mouth, while she pulled his jeans down, pouring months of suppressed attraction into their kiss. Medea kissed him back with equal fervor, her hands wandering to his taut butt, pressing it down into her as she ground against him. Logan lost his patience just then, pulling away from the kiss to unbutton her tight jeans and pulled them down, with her knickers. He sat back on his hunches, taking in her naked form.

"Perfect." He thought out loud, before rearranging himself between her legs and lowering himself until they were skin to skin. Going in for another kiss, he slid his hand down her body, caressing her breast, her stomach, her inner thigh. And then slightly up, to her core, running a finger through her folds.

"Fuck, you're so wet for me." He said in a raspy voice, his control entirely gone.

He was rock hard, positioning himself at her entrance, when she put a hand on his shoulder, pushing slightly. He turned to look at her, stopping immediately. She was flushed from her face, down her neck and to her collarbones. Her breathing was quick and shallow and her hair gloriously sprawled on her pillow.

"It's...it's been quite a while.." Medea confessed. "Go slow, please."

Logan nodded, kissing her once more for confirmation. He pressed into her with less vigor than he initially intended, and he was less than half way in when he realized it must have been an awfully long time for her. He pushed deeper gently, fighting the urge to impale her, letting out a shaky breath. He searched her face for pain, and she stroked his cheek, letting him know it was OK. He rested his forehead against hers when he was all the way in. She felt fucking divine.

Logan started to move slowly inside her, grating his teeth as he tried to save himself from embarrassment. "You're so tight." He whispered, voice hoarse.

Medea stretched her legs further apart, wrapping them around his waist, and allowing him to go deeper into her. They both moaned together when he pushed into her in this new angle, and her fingers scratched down his back, bringing him closer. He quickened the pace, his gaze locked with hers, trying to prolonged their pleasure. Every delicious moan and every gasp was intoxicating and he wished he could go on forever just to hear it. But he could not, because it has been ridiculously long since his last time too.

Sensing his distress, Medea cupped his cheek with her small palm and kissed him softly. "It's OK. You feel so good inside me." She said softly, pulling him closer to her so his head was buried in the crook of her neck.

That was all the approval he needed. He thrust harder, faster, his breath quick and shallow, the muscles in his lower abdomen beginning to contract. Medea bit his neck with much more force than he would ever expect her, pushing him over the edge. He came inside her with a feral growl, basking in the tight embrace of her hot, wet core. It took him a few moments to come down from his high, and he stayed inside her, close to her as possible, supporting some of his weight on his forearms not to crush her. Medea stroke his hair, kissing the side of his face.

He grabbed his shirt as he pulled out, wiping himself clean and handing it to Medea so his seed would not stain her sheets. He laid on his back next to her while she cleaned herself, slightly embarrassed about his performance. "It's been a while for me too..." He offered an explanation, his smile rueful.

Medea laughed. "You seemed like the type that drowns in pussy."

Logan raised an eyebrow at her language. She was definitely more liberated now. "I had some wild periods, for what I can remember. But not recently. Definitely not in the last year." Logan admitted.

Medea whistled, impressed, and sent him a bright smile. Logan stretched his arm and pulled her closer, so her backside was cradled against his body. He pressed butterfly kissed on her shoulders and neck, sniffing her hair in the process. Her scent was addicting, and now she smelled a bit like him and it was maddeningly arousing.

"You certainly recover quickly." Medea chuckled as he ground his once again hard cock against her ass cheeks. His hand wrap around her waist, pulling her flush against him and then lowering until it was between her legs.

"Show me what you like." He said huskily, taking her earlobe between his teeth.

With a shaky breath, Medea placed her hand over his, guiding him. She taught him where to touch her, and the right amount of pressure to apply, and the tempo she needed to bring her off. Logan memorized every little thing she showed him, every reaction to his every move, every little gasp and sigh. Medea released his hand, letting him explore her on his own, and sent her hand backwards, to stroke his member.

Logan gently grabbed her hand, putting it back in front of her. "This is solely about you, princess."

Medea bit her lip, when he inserted his finger just a little bit deeper, curving it like she told him, while his thumb rubbed her clit. It was not long before she was convulsing around his fingers, moaning his name and slightly trashing under his tight hold of her. Logan watched her as she came and she was beautiful. Her young features that somewhat bothered him in the beginning, transformed into something nymph-like and sinfully erotic.

Logan pushed into her from behind, before her orgasm ended, feeling the last waves of her high as she clenched around him. He snug one hand under her, to cup her breast and the other was teasing her clit while he leisurely moved inside her. Medea twisted her neck, turning around to kiss him. When her eyes met his, her gaze was so hot, so sultry that he barely recognized the asexual being that she usually was. Logan remarked to himself, that like her clothes, Medea had many layers, and he was eager to peel them off one after the other.

Now that he was more in control, Logan plunged deep into her in a steady pace, gradually guiding both of them to their peak. Logan made sure Medea came first, and the way she tightened around him sent him over the edges in a few fast thrusts. They laid motionless for a while, Medea spooned in his arms, with his leg slung over hers. When he pulled out she winced slightly.

He handed her his shirt again, and asked with concern. "Are you hurting?"

"A bit sore." Medea admitted. "I'm not in shape." She joked.

Logan kissed her neck, rubbing his nose against her soft skin. "You have the best personal trainer at your service."

Medea turned to look at him with expression that was mostly surprise. His words did imply that he intended to turn this into a regular habit, and he really did not intend to say it, but he was telling her a lot of things unintentionally lately. If he was completely honest with himself, he really would not mind turning it into a routine. Whiskey and sex were a classic combination.

Logan licked her nose in response, making Medea giggle. She laid facing him, her hand rubbing his cheek tenderly. She had a strange, almost solemn expression on her face, like she expected him to vanish any second. Her eyes glanced momentarily to the door and Logan wondered if she wanted him to leave now. But her hands continued to explore him, pleasant, feather-like touches that sent a buzz of pleasure through his spine. He pulled her closer, so their foreheads were touching, and so was the rest of their bodies, and her fingers left his chest to lightly graze his back. Logan purred, she found his spot in a matter of seconds. He did not plan to return to his room, but now even if she wanted him to leave she would have to call security. He was a sucker for back scratches.

Logan kissed her, chastely and affectionately, his grip on her waist strong, as if trying to tell her that he was not going anywhere. Logan was more serene and sated than he ever hoped to be, and he felt himself slip into slumber with zero worries or grudges. Good whiskey, fantastic sex and back rubs. What more can a man ask for?


	12. Chapter 12

**An update because someone (NaRuKo-InuTaiSHo-XD) actually messaged me about this story.**

 **I stopped bothering with it because I got the feeling no one was reading it.**

 **Not beta'd at all. Suck it up.**

 **Of Owls and Wolverines - Chapter 12:**

The past two days were a daze for Medea. She had sex with Logan. She had brilliant sex with Logan. It did not register at first, but she had marks on her body to prove that it was definitely real. Medea did not know where she found the courage to offer him to spend the night with her, and it was not unlikely that some mutant was playing mind games on her, but whatever the reason that caused her to be so brave, she was eternally grateful for it. She never doubted that Logan would be good in bed. It was the aftermath that puzzled her. Medea would bet her money that he would be the type to collect his clothes, get dressed, and leave to sleep alone in his room once the deed was done.

But he did not. He stayed for the night, holding her and kissing her until he fell asleep, and even in his sleep he hang onto her like she was his oxygen. He was not awkward when they woke up, did not seem like he regretted it or wanted to leave. They stayed in bed until it was nearly noon time, caressing and petting and learning each others bodies. Medea, in another heroic display of bravery, suggested that he join her in the shower. It was a brilliant idea, in retrospective. She had many fantasies about soaping up his taut abs and running her hands over the rigid planes of his chest, but it was not nearly as good as the real thing. Because in reality, Logan clearly enjoyed her pampering, and took the same liberties with her body, sensually lathering every inch of her. This drained the tension out of her body, and when she was completely lax in his arms, he picked her up and fucked her silly against the shower wall.

They did not really speak much since then, but they did not really speak every day before that either so it was not odd. They usually had their drinking nights once a week, and they shared meals another two-three times a week, mostly because of Medea's strange work schedule. Even when he came to read at her lab, they mostly did not talk, and sometimes she was not even aware he was there. So while the typical female reaction was to stress over him not talking to her, Medea gritted her teeth and put her focus on work.

Medea was slightly startled to see Logan at her doorway, just three days later. He was leaning casually on the door frame, in a way that complimented his great figure. Medea, clad in PJ's and holding a book, watched him curiously.

"Drink?" Was all Logan said.

"Twice a week? I think you're developing a problem here." Medea teased him.

"I can stop whenever I want." Logan repeated the mantra with a wink.

It was the middle of the week, and unlike their previous drinking session they had to work the day after. Medea looked at the book in her hand with distaste, it was frankly boring and badly written. Tossing it on the counter, she follow Logan to his room.

Logan poured her a generous portion. "I didn't see you the last couple of days."

"I was working, or rather catching up on a topic I know very little about." Medea shared. "I have this crazy idea that can bring your training to the next level, but it requires knowledge I currently don't have."

"What did you have in mind?" Logan asked.

"Fighting simulators." Medea replied with excitement. "Like, rooms where you can recreate all sort of dangerous situations for the students to practice."

Logan chuckled. "That sounds far too advanced for an old man like me."

"It too advanced for me as well." Medea admitted bitterly. "I had someone in my team who was very into the whole virtual reality field. But I'm not very familiar with it."

"It sounds like a good idea." Logan assured her. "It's all fun and games when we practice on the lawns, but under pressure it's a completely different story. I'd like to see them perform under stress."

Medea nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! That's the point. I want to present the idea to the professor, and I would like your advice on what scenarios to include. Let's see if what you think is necessary practice is even feasible with today's technology."

Logan was thoughtful for a moment. "I have a few things in mind. You'll have to explain this whole virtual reality thing in detail to me though. If it's good enough I'll go to speak to the professor with you." Logan promised.

Medea squeaked happily and lunched forward to give Logan a quick hug. But she was always too slow for him. Before she managed to pull away, one of his hand was on her lower back, holding her in place, and the other gently pried the glass from her hand. He placed the glass on the table, keeping a tight hold on her.

"You sitting on my lap is one of the scenarios I had in mind. Do you think you can handle it?" Logan said huskily to her ear. Medea nodded shyly and then she was lifted and placed back in his lap, straddling him.

Medea swallowed hard under the heated look he was giving her. His eyes were dark and clouded with lust and Medea felt a shiver run down her spine. So Logan still wanted her. Medea skipped the part where she would ponder about all the possible meanings of that, and closed the distance between them, kissing him with everything she had. Their kiss was rough, more bites and battle for dominance than a tender gesture. Her hands were tugging on his hair, instinctively, and Logan was grouping her ass, grinding himself against her. Medea could feel how hard he was even through his jeans, and it made her feel glorious. She pushed him with force, tearing out of his embrace, and knelt on the rug between his legs.

Running her hands up his thighs and to the hem of his jeans, Medea kept eye contact, with a grin that held wicked promises. Logan's eyes widened slightly when she unbuttoned his jeans. "You...you don't have to do it." His voice came out shaky.

Medea giggled against his thigh, pulling his jeans down. "But I want to. I've wanted it for quite a long time now." Medea confessed, biting her lower lip.

Logan let out a rugged breath, and tangled his hand in her hair. Medea took her time to examine him. Her room was dark and she did not get to see him that close the last time. But now in front of his fireplace she could see all the veins, the exact shape of his head, the angry red color. He felt big when he was inside her, but holding him in her small hand she was surprised it even fit. Medea gave it a tentative lick from the base to the tip, causing him to inhale sharply. She teased the head with her tongue, circling around it and slightly pushing against his slit, before she took it into her mouth.

He felt good in her mouth, in a very unique way that she would forever associate with him. It was so very Logan, the musky smell and the salty taste and the muscles of his thighs tightening under her hands. Medea had a good control over her body, it was one of the things she practiced the most when she wanted to bring her father down, but it came in handy in situations like that as well. Medea relaxed her throat, allowing her to take him all the way in. His hand on her head set a rhythm she could handle easily, and Medea tested all the little tricks she knew to find what was right for Logan.

He reacted well to most, but when she licked his balls, while pumping his cock with her hand, he let out a guttural groan. She took one of his balls into her mouth, sucking on it softly and he shuddered. His grip on her hair tightened. "I'm so close..." He hissed.

Medea gave him a few more solid stroked, before switching between his balls and cock. She engulfed his shaft in her mouth, and gently played with his balls. She bobbed her head in a fast pace, dictated by him, applying mild amount of pressure. He was literally fucking her mouth for a short moment before he came with a growl, his hot sperm salty on her tongue. She sucked him off until he was dry, running her hands up and down his thighs, relaxing his muscles. She pulled away when his breath got slightly more even, and he immediately pulled her into his chest, kissing her and tasting himself on her tongue.

"I really don't want to know where you learned all of that." Logan said, catching his breath, "But it was fucking amazing."

Medea chuckled. "I don't have that much of a practical experience. But I did spend the better half of my life around boys, so I got plenty of inside info."

Logan gaped at her. "Your teammates talked to you about it?"

"They talked about it among themselves, and I was one of them." Medea shrugged.

Logan stared at her thoughtfully for a while. "Yeah, you have a way to pass yourself as a completely asexual creature. I didn't really think of you as a female until recently."

"I do it on purpose. It prevents so much unnecessary drama." Medea confirmed. "But I got sloppy lately, around you."

Logan smirked at her. "And why is that?"

Medea blushed lightly. "I guess...I wanted you to notice."

"I was bound to notice even if you didn't want me to, the moment you showed up on the jet with that catsuit." Logan said slyly.

Medea palmed her face. "That was so embarrassing."

"But you're still hiding under your black tattered...scraps." Logan said with distaste.

"I don't feel like everyone should know my figure." Medea shrugged, "Except for the ones I choose."

Logan seemed very satisfied with that answer. He placed his hands under her butt and got on his feet, picking her up in the process. Smirking, he walked to his bedroom. "I feel very lucky then." He said, laying her down on his bed and climbing on top of her.

He kissed her deeply, sensually, running his hands under her PJ's top and then a moment later she was completely naked, with her legs spread wide. He licked and nibbled and kissed a trail from her mouth, to her chest and down to the apex of her thighs. He pushed her legs further apart, and then his head disappeared between her legs and oh did it feel divine. Logan definitely had loads of practical experience on that, and he was obviously taking pleasure in eating her out. His physical strength extended even to his tongue and no one ever fucker her like that with his mouth. His strong fingers and skilled tongue and the way his sideburns and beard grazed her inner thighs were pure bliss. Medea came hard, shaking and trying to hold back a scream but succeeding only partially.

Logan kissed her thighs and stomach before he aligned himself next to her. "I wish we weren't surrounded by hypersensitive mutants. I want to hear you screaming for me."

Medea was equally thrilled and embarrassed by his comment, and to cover it up she pulled him in for a kiss. Logan returned it with fervor, scooping her up and to lay on top of him. Medea felt his hardness against her belly, and wiggled until he was positioned at her entrance. She heard him hiss, before he shoved himself into her in one quick movement. She was slick and ready, but he was still painfully stretching her, and she flinched slightly. He broke the kiss to scan her face, rubbing her cheek with concern. "Sorry." He muttered, holding himself still inside her.

Medea shook her head. "Don't. It's a good sort of pain, I like it." Medea winked at him, and started moving against him, slightly raising her hips and then taking him all in again.

Logan grabbed her bum, helping her and setting the pace. His strong hands supported her weight so she could just lean back and enjoy the sensation. Through half leaded eyes she could see Logan staring at he breasts with fascination and she touched herself just to test his reaction. He pulled her down forcefully onto his cock, with one hand on her mid-back bending her forward, so he could take her nipple into his mouth. He thrust into her in a steady pace, lavishing her breasts and caressing her body. Medea gradually felt herself getting closer, as Logan watched her intensely, gently pushing her back to seat straight, allowing him to tease her clit. He accustomed himself to the rhythm she needed, touching her the way she taught him, moaning with her when they fall in perfect sync. Medea came with his name on her lips, lowering herself to lay against him, her head buried in his neck.

Logan grouped her bum, and held it in place while he fucked her rough and fast, using her lax body to his desires. Medea's orgasm seemed to last longer as he kept pumping in and out of her, and in the heat of the moment, she bit into his shoulder with more aggression than she thought she had. Logan let out a feral grunt, impaling her one last time before he came inside her, his grip on her forceful enough to bruise.

Medea enjoyed the last shivers of pleasure, as Logan regained his breath. He checked his shoulder, finding dried blood on the now healed skin. "You little hellcat." He chuckled. "Your teeth are crazy sharp."

Medea flashed him a grin, exposing two rows of white teeth. "I actually have canines." Medea tilted her head slightly so Logan can see. "My mom said it's a family trait."

Logan gave her a strange look, tracing her face with his finger. He lingered on her mouth, slightly raising his head from the pillow to place a peck on her lips. His attention moved to her eyes, and she found herself melting under his intense gaze. His finger followed the curve of her eyebrow and then the bridge of her nose. Medea felt like he was trying to map her face with his touch. When he was done, he flipped them so they were lying side by side, his arm wrapped around her waist and her hands feeling up his chest.

Medea noticed he was hard again, and it seemed like she never stopped being wet. His hand moved to cup her breast, messaging it with firm grip, and Medea pressed her lips against his, moaning into his mouth. She knew what she wanted, but she was too mortified to ask for it. Logan picked on the pleading and needy gaze she was giving him, and pressed his forehead to hers. "Tell me what you want."

"I..I.." Medea blushed furiously.

Logan caressed her face. "Don't be shy around me, princess."

Medea mustered her courage and spilled it quickly. "Doggy."

Logan did not need any more encouragement. Medea instantly found herself on her knees and elbows, with Logan hovering over her from behind. He slid slowly into her, and nibbled at her neck. "How do you want it?"

Medea closed her eyes, thankful that she was not facing him. "Rough." She whispered.

She felt him smirked against her skin. "Good girl."

He leaned back, grabbing her hips and set a vicious pace. Medea cried out with every thrust, and when he added spanking to the mixture she thought she was going to lose it completely. Logan changed angles carefully, to find what worked best for her, and penetrated her from behind without mercy. Medea could tell by his low groans that he was equally excited as her. "Touch yourself." He demanded, slapping her ass with a firm hand.

Medea struggled to hold her torso on a single forearm, reaching between her legs. She was fairly certain she could come without touching herself, but she was not about to argue with Logan when he was giving her exactly what she wanted. Logan pulled her backwards onto him as he shove forward with vigor, going so deep inside her it was bordering on painful. But Medea loved every second of the rough treatment. They came within seconds from each other, Medea collapsing on her stomach, with Logan on top of her. Boy, was he heavy. For a second she thought his weight would crush her ribs, but he rolled off her, pulling her to his chest. He held her for a few moments, before he pulled away, leaving the bed and bringing a towel from the bathroom. He wiped himself, and then handed it to her, and she cleaned the sticky trails on her inner thighs.

Logan sat on the edge of the bed, looking pointedly at the mattress, and Medea suddenly felt very vulnerable and self-conscious. He was not looking at her, and was not touching her and she instantly felt like she should not be there. His face was hard, and his posture was rigid, the muscles of his back prominent and slightly frightening. "Do you want me to leave?" Medea asked meekly.

Logan snapped his head in her direction. "What? Why would I want you to leave?" He looked at her like she grew another head. He moved closer to her, wrapping his arms around her body, which became slightly cold by then. "I was glaring at the sheets because they're stained and I'll have to change them before we go to sleep."

They went for another round before Medea surrendered, her core sore and the muscles of her thighs and abdomen tired and quivering. "That's one more than last time." Logan winked at her. "I told you I'll get you in top shape."

Watching him change the sheets completely nude was a beautiful sight, and a hilarious one too. It was funny watching Logan do house chores. He gave her a warning glare when he realized she was laughing at him, But since he was fluffing the pillow while doing so, it only made her laugh harder. He tackled her to the bed, biting into her neck, but the slight pain was more exciting than intimidating. Logan sighed when he realized she was enjoying herself. Medea fell asleep in his arms not long afterwards.

She woke up because she needed to pee. The heavy curtains were closed, and Medea checked her wrist watch for the time. 9:30. "Logan." Medea said kindly, running her hand through his hair.

No response.

"Logan." She spoke louder, poking his chest for emphasis.

"What." He rumbled.

"It's 9:30. You're teaching a class at 11:00." Medea reminded him.

"Fuck the little devils. Let's sleep in." Logan groaned, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

"I have work to do as well. And I need to pee." Medea reasoned with him. "Now release me before I have to resort to violence."

Logan snickered at her unconvincing threat, but let her go regardless. Medea sprinted to the bathroom, and, pulled the seat down and sighed with relief. While she was in the middle of emptying herself, Logan walked in, in all his naked glory. "Logan! Get out!" Medea hissed at him.

He raised an eyebrow at her shyness. "I ate your pussy a few hours ago. Do you really feel the need to shy away from me?"

Well, his words did make sense. Medea still preferred to urinate in private though. She joined him in the shower when she was done, stealing a few more kisses and caresses before they had to start their day. Logan opened one of the drawers and pulled out a new toothbrush, tearing the wrapping and handed it to Medea. They brushed their teeth together, both still naked, half covered by their towels. After they flashed, Logan grabbed her by the waist, hugging her from behind, as he stared at their reflection in the bathroom mirror. Medea assumed that whatever he was looking at, it pleased him as he grinned and bent to kiss her neck.

"Breakfast?" He offered.

Medea dropped by her room to change her clothes, and they made their way to the kitchens, in search of leftovers. The dining hall was usually closed by 9:30, so they missed breakfast. Storm was already there when they got there, dressed in a heavy coat, trying to warm her hands with a mug of tea. Medea glanced out of the window to see dark skies and heavy rain. Storm's gaze alternated between Logan and Medea, taking in their appearance.

Their hair was still wet from the shower, and they were in a rather elevated mood for people who were usually grumpy and reclusive. Storm took a few steps to stand in front of her, looking intently at something not far bellow her face. Storm took off her scarf, and wrapped it around Medea's neck. Medea searched with her fingers for the spot Storm noticed, and indeed the flesh was slightly tender at that point. She glared at Logan who watched the whole scene impassively. Storm turned to Logan, and gave him a friendly punch. "About time." Storm chuckled, and then left the kitchen, Medea staring after her.

Medea averted her eyes to Logan, who did not seem bothered. But she was quite concerned, and it probably showed on her face because Logan said. "She won't gossip."

Medea was still uncomfortable. Even Storm knowing was too much. They only slept together twice and someone already found out. "It's a small place. People are bound to realize." Logan remarked calmly, and started making coffee.

"So soon?" Medea wondered, her voice slightly breaking.

"Do you regret it?" Logan turned to her, his expression hard. "You're ashamed of it?"

Medea read between the lines. He was not accusing her for being ashamed of it, as in generally having an affair with a colleague. He was accusing her for being ashamed of him. Medea placed a calming hand on his forearm. "I don't see a reason to regret the best sex of my life." Medea smirked at him.

She hoped it was the right answer. It flattered his ego, but it did not make their fling into more than it was. Medea could tell him that she had feelings for him, that she would never be ashamed of him because he was amazing in her eyes, but it would make everything so much more complicated. His expression softened slightly, and the angry fire in his eyes died. "I'm a private person. And...this...this is me and you. And I don't want anyone else to be part of it."

Logan smiled at her, before pulling her into his arms. Embracing each other in the kitchen was not the best way to avoid attention or detection, but it felt good and Medea decided she could not care less what others would say. Logan was worth it.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: So I was neglecting this story deliberately because for some reason it made me really depressed and I didn't feel like continuing it. I have 2 unpublished chapters that I have already written, which lead to a possible end of the story. I guess I'll just put them here, because you asked nicely.**

 **Of Wolverines and Owls - Chapter 13**

Logan disappeared again afterwards. Medea did not see him on dinner, and when she passed by the garage, his motorcycle was gone. Sighing, she made her way to her room, her heart slightly heavy. How come she already missed him? She checked her phone to see if he messaged her, but was met with disappointment. Well, that was Logan, and she was not naive enough to think that she would change him. The fact that he let her come this close to him was remarkable by itself.

Medea turned on her bedroom light, noticing something in the corner of her eye. On her bedside table was a bottle of whiskey, and beside it was a note. In a horrid, nearly unreadable hand writing, Logan described a few potential scenarios for her simulation room. Medea bit her lip, feeling her eyes water. She held the note close to her heart, which pounded in her chest like crazy. She did not want to read too much into his gesture, but it was thoughtful and personal. It proved that he really did listen to her, and considered her ideas worthy. He understood how important was work to her, and made an effort to help her, just as he promised. Despite his departure, Medea went to sleep lighthearted.

The morning after she woke up energized, ready to dive into her work with the ideas Logan suggested. She was very unsure about implementing them, by she was ready to research the existing technologies and see if it was even remotely possible. Her mind was racing when she was stopped in the hallway by two students, both looking as young as elementary school.

"Hi, Owl." The girl said in a dreamy voice. "My brother said you were easy to recognize. He was right!"

"Yeah, you have the coolest hair! Like Cloud's from Final Fantasy!" The dark-haired boy beside her remarked with excitement.

Medea had no idea who the boy was, but it was easy to tell who the little girl was, even is she did not mention her brother. Goose's little sister had the exact same eyes as her brother. Deep piercing blue that was nearly unnatural. "Hi." Medea said awkwardly.

"I'm Clara." The girl introduced herself. "And this is Devin." She pointed at the boy next to her.

"Nice to meet you." Medea gave them a shy smile.

"I have something to give you." Clara said in her melodic voice and took Medea's hand in hers.

Her vision blurred for a moment and then she was in someone's kitchen, and Goose was right in front of her, pouring cereal into a bowl. Goose aged a bit in those few years they were apart, but she would still recognize him in a crowd of thousands. Medea wanted to step forward and hug him but she could not move and when he turned to look at her it seemed like he did not recognize her.

"OK, tell her that I miss her. We all do. And that I would like to see her...catch up. See how she's doing. This family is forever." Goose spoke with a nostalgic smile.

Medea was back at the school hallway, and Clara let go of her hand. Medea stared at the sweet looking child – she was rather powerful for her young age and with very good control over her abilities. It was not surprising Clara was a prodigy just like her brother. "Thank you." Medea told her, emotions evident in her voice.

"Maybe...maybe he can come visit you in school?" Medea suggested. "I miss him too."

Clara sent her a delightful smile. "Of course. Devin, you wanted to ask her something, right?"

The boy stopped staring with fascination at her hair and gave her a nervous grin. "Would you teach us about computers? And electronics? And how they make those awesome video games?" Devin asked enthusiastically. "I know a lot of my friends would totally sign up for your class!"

Medea gaped at him for a moment. Her? Teaching? It was nearly as absurd as Logan teaching, but in this school it somehow made sense. "I...I'm not part of the teaching staff. You could ask the professor about it, and if he approves..." Medea trailed off.

"Awesome!" The kid cried out. "You're going to be the coolest teacher ever!"

Clara gave one last smile, and pulled the kid by the hand, leading him to their next class. Medea stood motionless in the hallway for a long moment, wondering why she just potentially agreed to take a teaching position. She was definitely losing her shit. Medea marched to the lab, deciding how to divide her time between her virtual reality research, which was a task not yet approved by the professor, to adding new feature to the Jet's software.

It was past midnight when someone banged on the door of her lab. Medea was so focused on her work she just barely heard the loud knocks. She walked to the doors and opened them, to see Storm standing with her hands on her hips. It was her dangerous posture. "You skipped lunch and dinner, and it's half past one."

"OK?" Medea was unsure what reaction Storm expected.

"You're done working. Let's go get something to eat." Storm ordered her, and Medea knew her well enough to tell that arguing was futile when she was in that mood.

Medea followed her obediently to the kitchen and kept silent even when Storm piled up way too much food on Medea's plate. Storm watched her like a hawk. "So now you're going to drown yourself in work because he's gone?" Storm cut to the point.

OK, Medea was not expecting that. "I drown myself in work even when he's here." Medea said flatly, and it was not far from the truth.

Storm sighed, acknowledging that this was indeed a problematic part in Medea's character. "So, you and Logan?" Storm gave her a crooked smile.

"What about us?" Medea evaded an answer.

"You're together." Storm stated more than asked.

Medea really did not want to discuss it with Storm, but she did not want to give the wrong impression about their relationship. "We're not." Medea said curtly.

"Your love bite says otherwise." Storm laughed.

"We slept together twice." Medea clarified reluctantly. "We're not together."

Storm rolled her eyes. "Logan adores you."

Medea shook her head. "Logan adored Jean too. And many other women before her. And now it's me, and next week it will be someone else." Medea argued.

"Logan did not adore Jean." Storm countered. "Logan lusted after Jean. He never showed any interest in her beside his obvious desire. Jean knew it was all he wanted." Storm revealed. "That's why she's still with Scott."

"She would leave Scott if Logan was truly interested in her?" Medea gaped.

Storm chuckled. "Can you blame her?"

"I have no idea how she can stand Scott in general." Medea drawled, poking at her pasta.

"I wonder sometimes too." Storm grinned. "Back to the issue, Logan likes you. From the very beginning, when you two just got here. He was so overprotective when it came to you, he nearly attacked us."

"It doesn't take much for Logan to draw his claws." Medea joked. "He thinks he owes me a life debt. That's why he coddles me."

"Your entitled to your own opinion. I just tell you how it looks like from a third person's perspective." Storm put her fork down, and reached for her glass. "Logan ignores our existence religiously, and reluctantly interacts with us during missions or school duties. He never seeks any of us out, the way he seeks your company."

Medea shrugged. "We're both loners. We like being antisocial together?"

Storm snorted. "Every female in this institute would die to get "antisocial" with Logan, students included."

Medea blushed. "Well, he's fair game."

Storm raised her eyebrows. "You won't fight for him?"

"Logan is a man who needs his freedom like oxygen." Medea said with a wistful smile. "I won't take any choices away from him."

Storm gazed at her, contemplating, before she spoke again. "I see why he likes you."

Medea loved having Goose around. He came to help every other weekend, splitting his time between his little sister and working with Medea and Beast on the Danger Room project. She had been working alone for over a year and having someone to consult with was such a refreshing change, a blessing. With Logan away, Goose was the only person around she considered as a friend, and although the nature of their relationship was very different than hers and Logan's, it provided her a some stability and a sense of belonging.

"I'm so jealous, they are so many handsome guys here." Goose gushed.

Medea laughed at his typical fan-girling. Goose was a very different person when he did not wear uniform. The army was still not very accepting of gay people, especially men who had feminine tendencies and behavior, and Goose masked his true self artfully. But off duty and among friends he was the epitome of flamboyant gay. He got the code name Goose because the way he swayed his hips when he walked.

"I don't really get to interact with people here." Medea remarked generally.

"The gods send nuts to those who have no teeth." Goose shook his head disappointingly. "We all knew you were severely disordered, but I was always hoping that you aren't damaged to the core. That you aren't too fucked up to find love."

"Maybe I found someone who is equally fucked up." Medea joked bitterly.

Goose's eye widened. "No way! You have someone?"

"We're just shagging." Medea cooled his excitement down.

"Is he hot?" Goose interrogated her.

"Yeah, I guess."

"What's his name? Maybe I know him." Goose pressed.

"Logan." Medea said, her voice softer than she intended.

Goose seemed to ponder for a moment. "He's a teacher here!" He suddenly recalled. "Clara's friends are terrified by him."

Medea chuckled. "And what does Clara think about him?"

Goose was silent for a few heart beats. "She always says he is in a lot of pain."

Medea knew his little sister was exceptional but that was a very deep insight for a girl her age, no matter how gifted. Yes, if she had to describe Logan in one word she would probably choose pain. Everything else that he was, it was somehow associated to his pain. "She's right." Medea confirmed sadly.

Goose sighed heavily, looking at her with his brilliant blue eyes. Medea saw the softness in his eyes, his concern for her and his desire to see her happy. He never pitied her though, and she cherished him for it. He knew her well enough to tell that her connection to Logan had a lot to do with pain. Logan's pain and her pain. Goose wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder, averting his eyes to the young children playing happily on the lawn. A smile tugged at his lips when he spotted his sister and her friend Devin.

"As your family, I wanted to tell you how proud I am of you. Proud of what you achieved and proud of who you became, Owl." Goose said genuinely, locking their gazes. "I can't stop you from hating yourself, but you should know you did lots of good with the gift you've been given."

"Gift I've been given?" Medea raised an eyebrow at his weird phrasing.

"We...well, especially me...suspected that you weren't exactly normal." Goose struggled with his words. "I mean, some of us had more knowledge than you. Or more experience, but...none of us could think that fast. Or cover so many possibilities. You memorized entire programs, tens of thousands of code lines and you could debug it step by step...in your head. It's not...common."

"My father would have noticed." Medea dismissed him.

"Your father didn't know you at all." Goose countered her. "The amount of work you did here, in so little time, is beyond reasonable for a normal person."

"I'm good at what I do. And I put most of my waking moments into work." Medea offered her own explanation.

She loved Goose because he knew when to back off. And indeed, he raised his hands in a surrendering gesture and the discussion ended. They passed another hour just enjoying the outside before they went back to work on the simulation room. Now that they knew what sort of technology Beast could supply them, they could better plan the training software and the peripheral interfaces. Goose left to spent time with Clara after dinner and Medea stayed up in the lab until her eyes were dry and unfocused.

Medea dragged herself to her room, and took a shower that did nothing to lessen her exhaustion. She curled into bed, feeling painfully lonely despite spending the day with Goose. His theory about her being a mutant made her feel uneasy and even more of a freak than she already was. Not that being a mutant was a bad thing, Medea was never prejudiced against them and if anything, she was a little jealous. But she was certain she was genetically human. Just a tragic oddball. A freak among humans and misfit among mutants.

Her mind was finally shutting when she heard an engine roar. She knew the noise, that motorcycle. Medea could not help the silly smile that curved her lips upwards, and she fought sleep so she could hear him coming. A tiny bit of her hoped he would text her or come to see her, but it was late and he was probably tired. Medea picked up the sound of his shower running, and tried to go back to sleep, knowing she would have to wait until tomorrow to see him. The thoughts in her head quietened to a soft hum when she detected careful footsteps in her own apartment.

There was a sound of fabric being shed and tossed to the ground, and then her mattress shifted under the added weight. He tried to be quiet and undetected so he would not wake her up, but Medea's heart pounded in her chest, a dead give away for him. He probably knew she was awake already so she opened one eye and peered at him over her shoulder. Logan, naked, slithered into bed with her, positioning himself behind her. He caught her staring at him and leaned to place a quick kiss on her lips before adjusting her and the pillows so he was spooning her comfortably. Medea fell asleep even before he pulled the covers back up.

Medea woke up to Logan's chest, his fingers running lightly through her hair. She kissed the exposed skin, causing him to hum approvingly. He was away for slightly over a month and the sex was rushed and almost desperate on his side. He came before her, biting into her neck viciously like she was a territory he needed to claim, to conquer once again. Logan buried his face in her neck as he recovered, letting his hand trail down to her lower parts and touched her where she needed. It was not long until Medea came around his fingers, moaning his name when he broke their kiss to mark her neck and shoulders. He was painfully hard again, resting against her thigh, holding her close as she shivered from the pleasure.

Logan gave her a few moments to recover before he half asked, half demanded. "Ride me."

Medea was eager to comply, straddling him with a swift motion and staring down at his chiseled form. Those perfect pecks, the wide shoulders, the taut stomach and narrow waist. The soft hair of his chest and the naughty trail leading down to his manhood. She let her hands wander, feel him all over, get re-acquainted with his body. Oh how good it felt to take him in, to let him stretch her so wonderfully, to have him grip her hips like he possessed her but stare at her like he worshiped her. Her body wanted to be owned by him, but her mind kept insisting it must be mutual. Watching him when he was so desperate for her led her to hope that maybe it was.

Sated, or at least partially so, Logan smirked at her with hazy eyes. "You make it harder to keep away from this place."

"You make it worth staying." Medea said, too honest for her own liking.

Logan's smirk widened and he took her lips gently, translating all the sweet words he never said into something physical. Medea felt it in his touch, in the tenderness in which he cradled her face, in the absolute devotion in which he kissed her and the way his focus was entirely on her. Until his stomach made a very loud grumbling noise. Medea laughed into the kiss. "Lunch?"

"Yeah." Logan agreed begrudgingly.

After a quick shower, they made their way to the dining hall. Medea sat by Storm, and Logan on her other side, at the end of the table. He completely ignored both Scott and Jean, and gave Storm only a curt nod and his only interaction was his quiet conversation with Medea.

"So what have I missed while I was away?" Logan asked between bites.

"Beast visited often, he helped me with the Danger Room." Medea filled him in. "Bobby and Rogue are finally dating, and no, I don't know how they work around the no touching issue and I'm blissfully ignorant about it." Medea answered Logan's question before it was asked.

"When is beast coming over? I need a decent fight." Logan stated.

"Probably next week." Medea replied.

"How have you been?" Logan asked, his voice lowered.

"Busy. One of my teammates comes over to help me with the project, but it's still a very ambitious vision." Medea answered, drowning her fries with ketchup.

"The professor let military into school?" Logan raised an eyebrow, suspicion clear in his tone.

"His little sister studies here." Medea clarified. "Clara."

"Yeah, little thing with huge blue eyes." Logan remarked.

Medea nodded in confirmation. They finished their meal shortly after and headed out of the hall when Medea spotted Goose entering the building. She might have squeaked happily and rushed to meet him. Having her two favorite men around made her giddy. Goose greeted her, pulling her into a bear hug, until their reunion was interrupted by a low growl behind them. They both turned around to see Logan staring at Goose with murderous expression. Medea, correctly evaluating the situation took a step away from Goose, looking at Logan worriedly.

"Hands off, bub." Logan warned him.

It was funny to see Logan so territorial but Medea assumed that laughing at him would not be the best reaction. "This is Goose, my teammate and family." Medea introduced him to Logan.

Logan gave him a scan from head to toe, and Medea knew he probably did not like what he saw. Goose was tall, not as muscled as Logan but still fit. He had jet black hair in a short military cut and those outstanding eyes. Goose was universally good looking.

"This is Logan." Medea told Goose, slightly apologetic.

She could swear she saw a flash of anger on Logan's face after her curt introduction, so she took another step towards him and intertwined their fingers, something she had never done in public before. She squeezed his hand lightly, and Goose smiled knowingly. Logan seemed to be appeased by her gesture and the aggression he radiated decreased somewhat.

Logan turned to look at Medea with expression that was hard to decipher. She had never seen Logan insecure, but she could tell he was feeling slightly vulnerable. Logan pulled his hand out of her grip and rubbed her cheek affectionately for a short moment. Then he tore his gaze from her to glare at Goose. "I'll be watching you, bub."

Logan was about to turn and walk away when Goose responded. "Better watch your back instead."

Logan looked at him like he was mad. "Really?" Logan drawled, extracting his claws.

"Yeah. Your ass is fucking gorgeous." Goose wiggled his eyes at him and then turned to Medea with his sassiest voice. "You didn't tell me he was such a hunk!" He added a girly slap on her shoulder for good measure.

Logan was full on blushing, somewhere between relief and embarrassment. He seemed really rattled for a moment and Medea could not hold her mirth any longer. Logan shook his head at the whole exchange before walking away, leaving Medea short-breathed with stomach aching from laughter. Goose was seriously checking Logan out as he left them behind.

"WTF Owl!" Goose poked her chest. "You should have put a ring on that one."

Medea chuckled. "He's not really into commitment."

"Clearly not, seeing how he nearly clawed my head off for hugging you." Goose drawled sarcastically.

"He's a feral. They're territorial." Medea said dryly.

"If he was acting on pure animalistic instinct he wouldn't have backed away." Goose countered. "He obviously trusts you. And respects you."

Logan definitely held her in high regard, there was no point in arguing, so Medea nodded. "He does. And I feel the same about him. And probably a lot more than that." Medea added bitterly.

Goose took her hand and pulled her out to walk in the gardens. "Then tell him."

Medea shook her head. "I know him. It will probably scare him away."

Goose snorted. "I have never seem a man turn from lion to kitten that fast. Should have seen his face when you held his hand."

"It's not the right time." Medea insisted, and Goose being himself, let the issue drop just at the right time.

 **That was along-ass chapter, so you better appreciate :)**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: I found another chapter I wrote a while ago. Needed to fill in some dialogue I neglected. This is likely to be the last chapter as it ends on vaguely optimistic note. Just the way I like it.  
**

 **Of Wolverines and Owls - Chapter 14:**

"I'm sitting here for nearly 5 hours, old man." Logan heard a very familiar voice complain. "Where are your legendary regenerative abilities now?"

He felt a delicate palm taking a hold of his larger, rougher one. He slowly inhaled, now conscious enough to recognize that citric scent. Medea. "I mean I really have better things to do than sit here and glare at you until you kindly wake up."

She squeezed his hand gently. "Feel my rage, Logan." She said in a mock angry voice.

Logan chuckled. His first conscious action was to laugh at her bitter sense of humor, and it was the best wake up he had in all his previous recoveries. He entangled their fingers, squeezing her hand back.

"Can you really think of something better than gazing at my handsome self?" Logan teased her in a drowsy voice.

Medea snorted. "Shall I give you the list?"

Logan opened his eyes, his vision slowly focusing on Medea. She was in her black layered rugs again, her hair messy and uncontrollable as always, and she looked worn out. No one ever sat next to his bed when he got badly injured before. His heart did a weird skip, thinking she waited for him to wake up for hours. Medea got on her feet, pulling her hand away. "I'll call Jean. She wanted to examine you when you wake up."

Logan grabbed her hand, stopping her. "Are you leaving already?"

Medea gave him an apologetic smile. "I need to get back to work. And now that I know you're fine I can concentrate again." She blurted, blushing lightly when she realized what she revealed.

Logan was pleased to hear it. He never actually cared before, or at least did not remember caring, but it felt pretty good to be important to someone. He let go of her hand. "OK." He said softly.

Jean arrived moments later, informing him that he must be monitored for another two hours before she considered releasing him. Logan rolled his eyes and tried to relax in bed until she returned to check on him. Normally, he would be very pleased with gorgeous redheads fussing over him, but this time he just wanted it to be over with. He was hungry and he wanted to see Medea. Apparently Jean noticed.

"Are you in a hurry, lover-boy?" She asked sarcastically, but he did not miss the hint of bitterness in her voice.

"Excuse me?" Logan drawled, sparing her a cold stare.

"I know there is something going on between the two of you." Jean stated, crossing her arms over her chest.

He shifted from mild irritation to blinding rage in a millisecond. "I told you to stay out of my head, witch!" Logan roared at her, the disgust he felt for her written clearly on his face.

Jean took a few steps back. "I didn't read your mind." Her voice slightly shaky, but her stance was upright as she stood her ground against him. "I have been working with Medea on a medical bracelet, that will notify me if a patient is unwell. I got very unusual readings from hers a few nights ago, and went to check on her. The bracelet's tracker indicated she was in your room..."

Logan felt some of his aggression subdue. He was still irritated that she brought it up, but at least she did not violate his privacy, by abusing her powers in the vilest way. "It's still none of your business." Logan grunted.

Jean forced on a tired smile. "I know." She said candidly. "I just wanted to say...I'm happy for you. Both of you."

He was slightly buffled. All that barely-controlled violence that sipped through him a moment ago, morphed into unbearable awkwardness. Logan rubbed his neck, looking away fron Jean. "Thanks...Am I free to leave?"

Jean gave him a curt nod, and Logan nearly fleed out of the room, in an almost cowardly fashion, searching for Medea.

Medea was not in her room. She was not in her lab either, but he saw that she left her phone on her desk. Which explained why she did not answer his texts. Knowing her habits, Logan headed to the kitchen. She probably went to grab some food, and he was hungry anyway. In quick, longs steps he crossed the empty school hallways, until he heard soft footsteps that he recognized as Medea's. She was not far away. Logan heard another set of footsteps approaching, and hers coming to a halt.

"Yes?" He heard Medea drawl. She used that tune only with one person.

"Is that true?" Scott's voice was unmistakable.

"You'll have to be slightly less vague with your inquiries." Medea replied flatly.

"You and Logan." Scott clarified and Logan, without realizing, held his breath. "I saw you sitting by his bed."

"I don't know what conclusions you drew from me sitting by Logan's bed." Medea retorted icily. "And anyway, this is hardly your business."

He heard Scott sighing. "You can find yourself a good man. Why settle for a beast?"

Medea let out a cold, almost evil, laugh. "Logan is thrice the man you can ever hope to be. I'd be lucky to have him as my man." Medea stated, her voice steady and sure.

Logan by no means was a small man, but he felt at least two inch taller and his chest was puffed up like a balloon. "Well, if he makes you happy..." Scott trailed off.

"Logan can make any woman happy. Even your precious Jean. Do you really think she is happy with you? Happier than she would have been with Logan?" Medea asked cruelly.

When no answer came, Logan started walking to their direction, fearing that Scott might tear Medea apart out of rage. She was really pressing his buttons. They came into view, and he could see contempt and defiance written all over Medea's face, while Scott expression was a combination of fury, hurt and insecurity. Scott's expression turned even uglier when Logan entered his line of sight, taking a stand beside Medea.

He took her hand, tugging lightly to turn her attention to him. "Dinner?" He asked with crooked smile.

"Yeah, I was just on my way to the kitchen." Medea smiled back at him.

Logan wrapped his hand around her shoulder, leading her past Scott, in the direction of the kitchen. He gave Scott a very dark glare, explicitly warning him from pouncing on Medea again. Medea wrapped her hand around his waist, leaning into him, as they walked.

"How are you feeling?" She looked up to him.

"Good. Better than good." Logan grinned.

"Jean treated you well." Medea wiggled her eyebrows at him.

Logan laughed. "No. I actually heard your conversation with Scott."

Medea lowered her gaze, blushing deeply. "Oh."

"Thank you for standing up for me." Logan said in soft voice. "None of the others ever did it. Not Jean, not Storm. No one."

Medea shrugged. "Someone had to blow his bubble. He's insufferable."

Logan chuckled. "So, you'd be lucky to have me as your man?"

They reached the kitchen and Medea busied herself with preparing french fries, doing her best not to look at him, while he watched her like a hawk, waiting for an answer. "I guess I would." Medea replied finally, her voice almost sad.

Logan closed the distance between them, hugging her from behind. He opened his mouth to speak but his voice was lost, and her shoulders tensed against him at his lack of response. He mentally kicked himself for being a pitiful coward, for being unable to tell her that she can consider herself lucky, that he was indeed her man and he sure hoped that she would be his woman, and his alone. Logan did not even think about any other woman ever since they started sleeping together. Not even Jean. And to be completely honest, it began even before that. So while he never put a label on their relationship, never promised her forever or expressed his feelings for her, he was not stupid enough to lie to himself. He was hooked on her. Logan slowly turned her around to face him, cupped her face with one hand, and leaned in, taking her lips in a gentle kiss. He hoped she got the message because he was pretty awful with words.

* * *

Logan dismissed his class, feeling a bit strange. He told the students they did well when the lesson ended and that was very unlike him. Truth to be told, they all did well, but normally he would never let them know. It somehow slipped out of his mouth and he realized what he said only after they stared at him shocked and motionless a good five minutes after the bell rang. Colossus visibly puffed up, and he was huge to begin with, Rogue was beaming with joy and Jubilee gaped at him intently, dumbfounded, wondering if he finally lost it.

"OK, shape-shifter mutant, who are you?" Bobby broke the silence, his stare dead serious.

"Someone who will make you run laps until you lose that attitude, bub." Logan growled, with his traditional scowl.

The threat seemed to convince Bobby that it was the original Logan, and the students scattered, leaving Logan alone in the lawns. Was he really so hard on them that they could not believe he was capable of handing a well-deserved praise? Frankly, it was a reasonable doubt and he was sort of proud of Bobby for daring to question his identity. Shape-shifters were rare, but they existed and it was prudent to suspect a team member if his behavior was completely out of character. Maybe he did manage to teach them something.

He could easily pinpoint the change overtaking him. He was in good spirits. For the past two days. He could not remember being content for so long, and he was surprised at the effect Medea was having on him. Companionship and marvelous sex seemed to knock out most of his demons, or maybe his demons liked the sex just as much as he did and decided to lay low and not fuck this up. Medea was very open-minded in the bedroom and was willing to try pretty much anything he offered, and she did not shy from experimenting on him, which he encouraged. The cheeky vixen had the audacity to finger him and it caught him utterly off guard, he never came so hard in his life. He repaid her in the same manner, in a much more wicked and thorough fashion, having her in every way possible. Logan found himself grinning, recalling their last encounter.

He had not seen her since though, and he decided to go check on her. Medea worked far too much to his liking, and she was always surrounded by males, which constantly triggered his territorial instincts. Logan realized that garish Goose definitely was not a threat, but he still found himself annoyed at the amount of time he spent with Medea. Beast was one of the few X-Men members Logan actually liked, but again, he was taking a lot of Medea's attention and energy. And Medea had a common language with him, as they were both expert in similar fields, and Logan found himself a bit jealous that he could not converse with Medea on subjects that were so close to her heart with the same proficiency. Medea also had her meetings with the professor twice a week, and often he would call her to speak in front of donors and parents of potential students. For non-mutants, speaking to an accomplished human was reassuring, someone like them who did things they could understand gained their trust much faster.

And there was Gambit, who was low-key hitting on Medea ever since he got from wherever the fuck he was. He usually caught her in bad timing, when she was in hurry or just tired, and the responses he got were curt at best. Mostly, she just walked past Gambit like he did not even exist. Logan was extremely pleased with her for rejecting Gambit's courting, and he wondered if Medea simply disliked the guy or if she turned Gambit down out of loyalty. Logan and Medea never really discussed the nature of their relationship, and Logan was relieved that she never asked him to commit. Medea never really requested anything from him, and gave him complete freedom and more space than he actually wanted. She expected him to give her the same treatment, as her first commitment was to her work and she too was independent and solitary. That Logan can handle, but thinking about her with another man was something he found unbearable as of late.

Logan found her at her lab, her dainty fingers moving with astonishing speed on the keyboard, her eyes locked on the large monitor in front of her. Logan was always impressed with her ability to type without looking at the keyboard, a skill he could not seem to master. He was standing right behind her, her pleasant scent hitting his nostrils, and Medea was too engrossed in her work to notice.

Logan put a hand on her shoulder. "Hi." He said quietly.

Medea turned to him with narrowed eyes. "You're not my favorite person right now. I didn't shit for two days."

Logan bit his lip so he would not laugh at her distress. "It's... a side effect." Logan admitted, smirking as he recalled their last night together. "But it will pass if we do it regularly." Logan added hopefully.

Medea gave him a calculated look. "You really like it. Why?"

"Usually it's just tighter." Logan explained, rubbing his neck. "I guess it's more about claiming you, in every possible way."

Medea snorted, crossing her arms over her chest. "Claiming me. It sounds positively medieval."

"I was born in the 19th century." Logan grinned.

"You made an impression of a very progressive man." Medea returned a smile.

"I generally am. But I'm somewhat old-fashioned when it comes to this. If it wasn't clear, I don't want to share you." Logan stated, relieved that he finally said it but anxious about her reaction. And apparently he was rightfully worried, because Medea raised her eyebrows at him with that specific defiant expression that he learned to dread.

"Oh really? And when you disappear, then what?" Medea snarled, glaring at him.

A part of him knew what he was asking of her was unfair. But he could not help but want it. "If I'm away for a reasonable amount of time, I would appreciate it if you don't find me a ...replacement." Logan said carefully.

"And what would you consider a reasonable time?" Medea asked, her voice laced with venom.

Logan sighed, looking away. He should have known it would piss her off, she was like him in many ways. He had reacted just like her, or much worse, in similar circumstances. "It's for you to decide. You know how I feel about it..." Logan trailed off, and when the silence dragged on he turned around and started to walk away.

"And what about you Logan?" Medea inquired.

There was a slight tremble in her voice that made him turn back to look at her. He knew her facial expressions very well, and he could tell that much of her anger dissipated and was replaced with something else. Sadness? Her lower lip quivered, which always happened when she was in emotional pain.

"Does this apply to you as well?" Medea added, her voice cracking.

Logan took a few steps towards her, until she was within an arm's reach. "Yes. You're the only one." Logan answered, without the slightest hesitation.

Medea bit her lower lip, her eyes cast down to the floor and her face displaying her inner turbulence. Whatever she was debating, Medea reached her decision a moment later, and when she looked back at him, her features were soft, delicate. Medea closed the distance between them, cupping his cheek and standing on her toes to place a sweet kiss on his lips. Logan did not realize how tense was his body until he unclenched his fists to wrap his arms around her. In a very unlikely fashion, Logan allowed her to dominate the kiss, just to be reassured that she really wanted him. She felt good against him, beneath the soft caress of his fingers, in his mouth. Medea pulled away for air, smiling sweetly.

"So," Logan regarded her face sternly, not quite sure what he was asking.

Medea pecked his lips, blushing lightly before she buried her face in his chest. "You're the only one." She repeated his words, mumbling into his rib-cage, which could have explained how it reached straight to his heart.


End file.
